Mischief Managed
by lostdreaming123
Summary: Kira has a dark past. Problem is, she doesn't remember any of it. While trying to hide her secrets from the curious students of Hogwarts, she struggles to fight the effects of the infamous Sirius Black and his obnoxious interest in her dangerous past life
1. Warm Welcomes

I looked down at the ticket, trying to concentrate through all the noise of the teeming train station. Nine and three quarters? Who the bloody hell wrote this? I growled and felt like throwing something. I was standing in the middle of platform nine and ten, the hectic people pushing past me. I'm sure I looked as lost as I felt. I watched as some girls and boys my age laughed and joked, walking past me, with out even noticing. I observed them for a moment, contemplating following them, with the assumption they were going to the same place I was, when suddenly they disappeared. I blinked and focused my eyes on the wall where they unexpectedly vanished. Then I saw another pair of students walk straight towards the brick column, and again they were sucked in and passed from sight. I sucked in a breath, keeping my face emotionless as usual, as I pushed through the throngs of people rudely to examine the red pilaster in question. I poked it, and the surface felt just like a brick wall. Examining it up and down one last time, I took a step back, eyeing the obstruction like it was some how offending me. I heard a light, and friendly laugh from behind me, and I swung around to find this unwelcome intruder and wallop them, but I came face to face with a friendly smile. A thin pretty girl, with wild deep auburn hair, stood before me, and I found myself forgetting my violent plans and wondered if she could possibly help me with my obvious dilemma. She walked up to the wall and patted it affectionately, I found myself frowning. She smiled—a thin twitch of her lips.

"It wont work unless you build up some speed. Come on I'll show you." She took her suitcase and flung it at the wall, as it disappeared. She started to back up and motioned for me to follow. We walked several passes back, and I looked around anxiously, wondering if this was normal to the other people in the station. "Okay, you go first and then, Ill follow. That way, if you have any trouble I can help you. Its harder to get back through once your on the other side already." She smiled encouragingly, but I wasn't convinced. I looked at her suspiciously.

"You want me to run at a _wall_? Sorry, but I don't feel like smashing my face in." I said coldly, crossing my arms over my chest. She only laughed slightly, her hair bouncing around her shoulders.

"Fine, Ill go first. But once I'm through come right after, were almost late." And with that she ran at the wall and vanished. I glared at the bricks again. Unsure of what to do.

"Alright, _wall, _if this doesn't work, you're so going to be a heap of cement." I muttered as I readied my self to do the stupidest thing on earth. With one last breath of air, I flung myself at the column and to my dismay; I was sucked in a spit out on the other side. I took a lurching step to keep my balance, and gripped my bag tightly. I looked up and the red headed girl was waiting for me with another one of her light smiles.

"Good work." She grinned. "Its tough at first." She said tossing her head in the direction of a new train. "Come on, they just called the passengers aboard. I'm Lily by the way." I nodded and followed her aboard the train.

"Im Kira." She smiled and nodded.

"I know, there's been a lot of talk about you over the summer." I grimaced and she dimpled apologetically.

"Great." I muttered sarcastically, and she laughed as she lead the way to a separate compartment of the train.

We walked along the aisle of the train, looking for a compartment, as it picked up speed and raced by the blurring scenery. On the way some people slid the doors to their compartment open—especially the boys—and made rude, and perverted comments, which Lily and I both responded with scathing glares that made them flinch away. We talked lightly—or tried, all my comments were rare, usually sarcastic, and cold—as we walked until we found an empty one. Both of us slid into the seats after putting our bags in the overhead compartments, and Lily slid over and locked the wooden, and frosted glass door. I quirked a finely arched brow questioningly.

"I don't want any one trying to strike up a conversation." She said bitterly and I nodded in agreement. She sighed, looking disgusted, "Happens every year, it's usually Potter and Black, but I have a feeling with you," she said looking at me head to toe. I didn't flinch at her gaze, but waited for her to continue. "You're super gorgeous. So there might be other guys trying to hit it off with you." She explained, and my eyebrows shot up at her comment. She ignored me.

"Who are Potter and Black? And why do they usually come?" I asked, saying their names with dislike, because by Lily's way of describing them didn't sound all that great. She laughed at my tone and answered faintly with a wave of her hand.

"James Potter has this pathetic crush on me, and Sirius Black will flirt with anything that moves, which usually happens to be my friends." I didn't like these people already.

"So," She asked, cocking her head to one side curiously "if you don't mind me asking, why are you starting Hogwarts as a sixth year?" My face became stone, and my dark blue eyes darkened visibly. She noted my expression, and smiled understandingly. "You don't have to tell me, I'm not making you." And then she changed the subject.

It has been three hours on this bloody train, and I swear I was going to pull all my hair out. I felt uncomfortable and jittery, like I had to do laps on the train or else I was going to go nuts. I groaned, frustratingly and banged my head lightly on the cool glass window. Lily, who looked equally as bored nodded her head in agreement. I found myself taking an unusual liking to Lily, and she seemed to share the feeling. It wasn't often I liked someone; it was usually just a tolerance, or complete dislike, so when Lily and I hit it off so quickly, it naturally surprised me. The window was fogging, as it grew colder outside as night fell, and warmer inside the train. I ran my finger over the glass, and silently started making little stars all over the window. My fingers made squeaking noises as I pressed them against the glass. Lily, who had been watching me, joined in also, and together we covered the entire glass window in little star shapes carved into the thin layer of fog. After we finished boredom settled over us again, and I sighed stripping off my thin coat.

"I swear, were going to suffocate in here." I said in reference to the stuffy atmosphere in our cabin.

"Ugh, I know," she said slipping her coat off as well, and tossing down the bench. Her eyes caught on my wrist and she turned her gaze on me curiously. I pulled the sleeve of my shirt of my shirt downward, covering my unusual mark with the fabric. She didn't press it further. Just then a figure appeared at our door, looking in, his head bobbing, while he was knocking franticly. Lily rolled her eyes and said, "go away James." She called through the door, crossing her arms. He shook his head, looking down the hallway distractedly.

"No Lily! Come on, let me in! I'm toast if they get a hold of me!" Lily looked torn, and stood up. She opened the door, just to tell him off and see what was wrong, but when the lock unhitched, James pushed his way through the door. He closed and locked it just as a group of people ran by, shouting swear words. He sunk down of the bench next to Lily, who did not look happy, James on the other hand looked very pleased with himself. "Phew" he said, wiping his brow, and grinning like an idiot. He was looking at Lily. "That was a close one. Thanks for saving me Li-lei." She frowned and ignored him. "Merlin, I hope Padfoot got outta that one, those Slytherins did not look happy." He grinned again, leaning towards Lily, who in response leaned away. I watched them curiously, unsure if Lily wanted me to help her with this idiotic boy, or stay out. It was hard to tell if she was enjoying his attention, or despised it. "Say, whose this?" James wagged his eyebrows suggestively at me. I stiffened. Lily spoke for the first time James showed up so rudely.

"This is Kira." She said motioning towards me. But James didn't look, he just smiled cutely at Lily.

"Its so good hear your voice again, Evans." He tossed his arm around her slim shoulders, smirking, and she shrugged him off.

"Get out Potter." She said flatly.

"Now Lily, its gunna take a little more than that to persuade me. How 'bout …" He pretended to think for a moment. "If you give me a hug—just a hug!—I'll leave." He grinned goofily, as Lily shoved him. He stood feigning to be hurt, "fine, ill sit next to Kira." He sniffed, plopping down next to me and tossing an arm around my shoulders. I stiffened, and turned my head slowly toward him.

". Hand. Off. Of. Me." I growled dangerously. He dropped his hands like I was burning hot, and looked taken aback by my deadly tone lethal glare. He shuffled away from me.

"Sheesh, I better warn Sirius about you. Your _feisty._" He shivered under my glower, and looked at Lily who was smirking proudly at me. "I think I'd rather get beat up by Evan's than sit next to you." He said sliding back next to Lily. I relaxed visibly, and flicked my eyes back and forth from James to the door, signaling to Lily, we should get him out. We made eye contact and she nodded. James was happily oblivious. We both stood up suddenly, and James looked bewildered. "What's going on here? Are we having a standing up party?" He asked jumping up too, right in front of the door. We both smirked at each other, as I lunged at the door unlocking and pushing it open. James looked extremely confused, and Lily, once the door swung open, shoved him and yanked the door shut as I flicked the lock. "Hey!" Came James's confused voice. "That wasn't very nice!"

Lily and I looked at each other, and she stated laughing hysterically, and for the first time since I can remember, I smiled, enjoying her amusement with her. And we both settled down for the rest of the train ride.

---

Lily lead me to the head masters office, since I was apparently a sixth year, and had never gone to the school before, I needed to be sorted. We walked through the large wooden doors without knocking, and an elderly man who sat at a desk cluttered with stacks of paper and files. His hair and beard was silvery white and was waist length on his large black robes. He smiled sincerely at us as we walked in, his blue gray eyes crinkling with age as he did so.

"Welcome back Miss Evans, and...?" he swept his hand in my direction. My face was unreadable as always as he motioned towards me.

"Kira Thornhill," I stated, without an ounce of emotion leaking into my voice. He raised his white bushy eyebrows.

"Ah…yes. Miss Thornhill, we've been expecting you." He smiled. I did not return the gesture.

"I prefer Kira." I disclosed, looking him in the eye. For a moment he seemed flustered at my comment, but he hide it well, and let it go.

"All right, Kira" he smiled at something unknown, and continued. "I presume you are here to be sorted." I nodded stiffly and he stood from his chair, and moved surprisingly fast to a ceiling high bookshelf behind his desk. He climbed the ladder, and carefully pulled down a worn black hat, then, equally as graceful, descended the ladder and walked back over to us. Lily stood off to the corner as the man known as Dumbledore (as Lily informed me earlier) approached with a stool and the hat. I watched quietly, as he set the dull grey wooden stool down in front of me, and patted its surface patiently, waiting for me to sit down. I hesitated, glaring at the hat in his hand. Why the hell does he have a hat? I mean, a hat? Really? Has the world gone nuts? I smoothed the pleated skirt of my new uniform as I sat, keeping my eyes suspiciously on the old man standing before me. The lights behind him on the desk flicked on suddenly, and I jumped up, readying myself for anything. Dumbledore had his wand out; I scowled, wishing I hadn't left mine in my trunk, but then visibly relaxed when I realized he was just turning the lights on in his office with the slim magical rod, not in any way attacking Lily or I. My body sank back onto the old stool, my fingers gripping the splintered worn wood, before calming my racing adrenaline. My eyes adjusted quickly to the burning lights.

"I hope you don't mind," Dumbledore said, his face soft as he reviewed my scowling expression, squinting at the lights above. "It was getting considerably dark in here." He finished, his tone was sincerely friendly, and understanding, it looked like under those marshy eyes, he knew more about what was going on then he let on. Although this made me weary, as I didn't want him to know my secrets, I was somewhat relieved that all the weight on my shoulders could be shared and I wouldn't have to carry it by myself. I silently noted him as someone to potentially confide in.

He stepped forward and placed the mangled ancient hat upon my head carefully, then stepped back. The black hat instantly came to life above me, tangling my hair as it swiveled from side to side, finding a comfortable spot; I glowered at the brim of the witch hat just above my forehead.

"Ahh…" spoke the raspy and harsh voice of the headwear making itself oh-so at home upon my head. "Lets see, lets see…" I felt a probing within my mind, like someone was _trying _to get inside brain. I stayed perfectly still, clenching the wood of the stool until my knuckles turned white to prevent myself from ripping the hat off my head and hurling it as far away as I could manage. The room was silent. "Would you mind," the sorting hat asked irritably. "In order to sort you I need to look into your thoughts." The hat rasped shifting upon the shiny surface of my dark hair. Dumbledore's face was blank as he cleared his throat.

"Whatever do you mean, my dear friend?" His voice echoed softly off the walls.

"I mean," the hat replied, "that _this girl_ is blocking her mind." He sounded more than annoyed. The old mans face remained blank, as he looked at me.

"Miss Thornhill—"

"Kira." I cut him off, my voice and face equally as frosty.

"Kira," he continued slowly. "Would you care to let our sorting hat do its job? This is what you came for, is it not?" I scowled, wondering what the hell he wanted to do. Stop thinking? Dumbledore seemed to see through my emotionless face and saw my confusion. "Just relax." I crinkled my nose and glowered, hesitantly relaxing my body, and took a brief, but deep breath. I focused on relaxing, but my mind kept spinning out of control, trailing off in different directions.

It took some time; everyone was patient with me, although I was getting increasingly frustrated with myself. I hated being weak. The hat grunted in approval. And I realized that he had gotten what he wanted. He was in my mind.

Could everyone feel this hat rummaging through their head like this? It felt like a rabid squirrel was going nuts with in my cranium. I squeezed my eyes shut, listening to the throb of my ever-increasing headache. This was turning out to be a tiring day. I cringed and my stomach dropped as I thought of sleeping. Or more precisely my nightmares. I didn't want to deal with them tonight, or any night for that matter. Maybe, they would finally leave my alone. I almost laughed hollowly at that. Never, ever would the nightmares end. But what scarred me the most about these supposed nightmares was the fact that they could be memories.

"Mmhm hmm…" the hat drawled lazily, making me open my eyes and wince slightly as my head pounded in tune with my heart. "You have an exquisite mind," he continued, and I found myself getting increasingly annoyed with this black ancient fabric. I restrained my thoughts of torture. "Interesting, interesting…you have the darkness, and power of Slytherin…I can tell…but you have rebelled against your darker side…I can see the bravery and loyalty radiating from your soul…Gryffindor, possibly? But I see here you have the intelligence of Ravenclaw and the goodness of Hufflepuff…this is a hard one…" There was a considerable pause. "What do you choose?" The hat stopped, and it took me a moment to realize he was asking me.

"Isn't that your job?" I ground out between clenched teeth, and winced as my head thumped again.

"Its up to you now." Dumbledore spoke, his eyes surprisingly intense. I stood taking the hat off my head and placing it on the desk in front of him, then returned to the stool. I took another deep breath, and closed my eyes, waiting for the usual flash of image to tell which direction I would ultimately end up choosing no matter what I wanted. I waited, and surprisingly, two images flashed behind my closed eyelids: one was Slytherin, and the other Gryffindor. I never got two. Something deep with in me stirred, something that was not entirely me, and seemed angered by the Gryffindor symbol that was still burned in my brain. It revolted and threw away the image, whispering in a familiar hissing tongue what it wanted me to do. The darkness of this voice seeped into my mind, enveloping the Gryffindor option with its smoky tendrils. And suddenly a new image flashed up, and played itself like a silent movie clip in my head. This was not from the dark voice; he was not controlling this as the scene sputtered in my mind. This image was coming from me. A girl, no older than seven, with dark hair and wild, frightening eyes stood before a towering man, dressed in black robes. He had a hand placed possessively on this little girls shoulder. The scenery around them was blurry, but I recognized the mans voice immediately, the slow hissing tongue. I shivered and tried to pull myself from the vision. The Image shimmered in my mind and disappeared. There was no doubt that the little girl in that illusion was me. A memory, so much a like to my terrible nightmares I shivered again. The voice spoke again within me, whispering what it wanted me to do. I knew what he wanted me to do, I knew exactly what, but I remained motionless. I was only vaguely aware of my actual surroundings. My mind was reeling with the vision I had just had. The memory. Why couldn't I remember that? I don't remember anything up until the moment I awoke in a public bathroom on the streets of London. That was only two months ago. The voice continued to speak, louder now, rising within my body like black smoke, wrapping itself around my bones and weaving itself through my mind, cutting off all thoughts except one. Slytherin. I knew that this thing inside me, was not me. It had been there since I can remember, but it was foreign. I could feel that it did not belong, like the way the immune systems can tell an infectious organism from the bodies own cells. And before this corrupt villainous thing could completely control me, I made my choice.

"Gryffindor!" I choked out, like my voice was being taken away from me, withdrawn. I sounded desperate and weak, as I fought back the wave of pain he within me was creating. He hissed menacingly, like the words I had spoken burned him, and I felt it shrink away from my mind, wrapping itself like a snake around the rest of my body desperate to remain in control over something.

"Are you positive?" Dumbledore's voice broke me out of my anguish, and I struggled to mask the pain, and control my expression. I opened my eyes and he looked surprisingly worried. I nodded, unable to trust my voice. He looked unsure about my decision, as I'm sure anyone could see the sinister creature thrashing inside my body, radiating its darkness through my navy blue eyes. I blinked and I could feel the foul mist shrink back even more, loosing control over me entirely. The pain lessened considerably, and I sighed in relief, feeling more exhausted than ever. The phantom that had been terrorizing me seemed to drain out of me, almost as if it were soaking into the carpet, but not before whispering some terrible promises for me in the future. This thing was not a thing at all, it was some_one _who was trying control me. His menacing voice rung in my ears, _I __**will**__ have you back, Kira. I will._

I knew that this stranger was gone, but only for now, he always came back, whenever I needed to make a crucial decision. He had just never been so strong before, but maybe it had never had to be strong before, maybe I was getting stronger too, strong enough to refuse, the man who invaded my body, the man who was in my dreams. And in my lost memories, the man I called master.


	2. The Wonders of Hogwarts

Lily and I happily made our way to the Gryffindor dorms, she was so exuberant that she could barley contain herself from dancing down the dimly lit hallways. Lily was of course happy I was in her house, and I was relieved she did not mention my little episode in Dumbledore's office, or remark on it further. I thanked the heavens that I had befriended a very understanding person, who did not question subjects I seemed unwilling to talk about. Like, for one, why I was starting as a sixth year, and another, where I had been while not attending Hogwarts, a third, my mark, and lastly, all the other strange things about me that she was only beginning to get a taste of. I sighed heavily and wished she would stay away from me and not somehow get dragged into the dangers that appeared to be drowning me, pulling me further and further beneath the murky depths of their darkness. But, at the same time, I was immensely relieved she was still with me, by my side.

We hurried down the hallways, having no trouble with any questioning stares—that were mostly directed towards me—because all the other students where patiently awaiting the opening ceremony. As we approached a large portrait of an enormous woman wearing the ugliest pink dress, Lily said a word, and then repeated the password for me, telling me how to enter the Gryffindor house. I nodded and understanding as the door swung open to reveal the common room, furnished in red and gold, with a large wooden book shelf to the back and a comfortable looking sofa complete with fire place. I scanned the room shortly before following Lily up the stairs to the right.

"Remember," Lily said, pausing halfway up the stairs to turn around. "Boys left, girls right." She informed me, relating to the dormitories. Then continued up the red-carpeted stairs to drop my trunk off.

As we approached the dinning hall doors, Lily was telling me all about the opening ceremony, the rules of Hogwarts, classes, and lastly the people. I listened attentively as she explained that all Slytherin's hated Gryffindor's and vice versa, which girls were annoying, sluts, or just plain bitches. Which guys were players, good homework companions, or as Lily put it stupid arrogant pigs, on top of that list was James Potter. I smiled briefly, at her descriptions of everyone, including some of her friends. Erin and Erica, whom shared our dorm, and were also twins. She said she still couldn't tell them apart, and not to be taken aback by their bluntness, and that their actually super nice, if not a bit shallow.

At the door, waiting anxiously, were what Lily had told me were first years, who were waiting to be sorted, as I had just done moments ago. I shuddered at the thought as a cold chill trembled down my spin. I heard a hollow laugh, and the same snake like voice as before, but with none of the same power over me_. Ill be back…_ I know, I thought bitterly, the voice laughed again, its eeriness sending another tumbling tremor down my back. Lily noticed silently, but kept to herself, stopping at the front of the pack of nervous huddling children to say hello to a rather stern looking professor who was undoubtedly trying to calm the hyperventilating new students. They exchanged quick greetings, before we slipped through the tall wooden doors, trying to be inconspicuous. The heavy doors shut noisily behind us, and suddenly every single eye in the entire dining hall was on us. We froze, and I turned hastily towards the door.

"Could that #$% door be any bloody louder?!" I whispered harshly at the entrance door, glaring at the new object of my hate. Lily giggled, placing a hand over her mouth, before taking my arm and leading me over towards the Gryffindor table. We slinked into some seats, and two dirty blonde haired girls grinned up at us.

"Nice entrance." They said in unison. These must me Erin and Erica; they looked almost exactly the same. Lily giggled.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, and they smirked identically.

"Lily made a new friend," They cooed and I flashed Lily an I'm-so-not-enjoying-them eyebrow raise. Lily waved her hand dismissively at my expression.

"Hey guys, long time no see." Lily said,eferring to the twins. "NOW all of you, pay attention." She said sharply, turning towards the professor table, where Dumbledore was making an opening speech about he first years before he waved his hands and the doors opened, revealing the skittish eleven year olds.

---

The rest of the ceremony went smoothly, and as the last child went up, Dumbledore stepped forward again and explained the rules to the group of attention lacking students. I turned away, Lily had already explained to me the rules, and looked around the hall. My eyes traveled along the walls, as the torches flickered unnoticeably whenever my eyes trailed along their orange light. I glanced up, and for the first time saw the hovering candles ten feet above my head. I reached up, and the hovering candles dipped as if the person who held their invisible strings suddenly let out slack so I could reach them, and one slipped into my grasp. I examined it carefully, trailing my finger over the off white waxy surface, watching the flickering flames subtly.

"How do they make them hover?" I asked absently, letting go of the candle and waving it away as it lingered slightly before floating back to the remaining suspended candles. I turned towards Lily casually, waiting for her answer. Her eyes flickered from me to the candles briefly, before her face returned to normal.

"I don't know," She said shrugging, "I never really thought of it before." Lily turned towards Erin and Erica, "Erin, Erica, this is Kira." She introduced us indifferently, and stuffed a piece of bread in her mouth from the platter that had miraculously appeared. The twins looked at me in astonishment for a moment, looking dazed, before snapping out of it and smiling sweetly at me.

Over the meal, the twins gave me a complete run down on _everybody_, from every teacher to all the second years, and even some firsts. I listened offhandedly, picking at the food on my plate. I soon found out that Erica, and Erin were more than complete and utter gossips, but also absolutely boy-crazy. I actually found them quite entertaining as they gushed in sync about all the beautiful 'hunks'.

"And that one over there," Erin babbled pointing slyly over her shoulder.

"Don't pretend like you didn't notice him." Erika joined in, flashing me a suggestive eyebrow wag.

"His name is Ryan Vetch, and even though he's Ravenclaw—" Erin continued but was interrupted by her sister again.

"And all Ravenclaw's are total nerds." Erika added, while taking a sip of her apple sider. Erin grinned and nodded approvingly.

"Your right sis, they totally are, – Even though he's Ravenclaw, as you can see there is no end to that muscle, and that hair!" She sighed dramatically, throwing a hand to her forehead and pretending to be fainting like a opera singer, "I think I might melt just thinking about him!" Erin dragged her hands down her face dramatically, and sighed dreamily. Erica patted her sisters shoulder sympathetically.

"Don't worry E, if you melt, Ill scoop you up." The other honey blond said playing along. They smiled their signature sweet smiles at each other.

"Ditto twin." They grinned happily and continued down their list of guys. I listened, more for their dramatic performances than the actual people, chewing slowly until Lily excused us. We left the dining hall, along with a couple other students who where leaving also, all of them giving me curious side-glances—that were increasingly rubbing my already sensitive temper raw.

"What exactly had you heard about me over summer?" I asked, trying to sound calm and collected, but my voice sounded strained and annoyed. Lily smiled at me, as we walked down the long corridors that were growing dim, like shadows growing as the sun set.

"Oh nothing much. It's mostly just about your looks." She said, looking at me briefly before steering us down another extended corridor.

"Looks?" I growled clenching my jaw, and shaking my head bitterly. "Why is everyone so bloody shallow." I snarled more to myself than Lily. She smiled anyway.

We reached the portrait hole and walked into the Gryffindor common room. It was bright and cheery within the space, filled with happily reunited students, who were conversing excitedly. I looked over the crowd indifferently, before walking to the stairs, with Lily following me closely.

"Lily! Lily!" A male voice shouted excitedly. I turned instinctively, watching the same young man from the train wave his arms franticly, trying to push his way through all the people while still holding her attention. I rolled my eyes.

"He really is pathetic." I muttered. Lily looked panic stricken, and was desperately searching for escape.

"I know." She wailed miserably, clutching her face in her hands. We were at the base of the stairs, and I stepped aside motioning for Lily to go. She ran up the stars without another thought, and I followed her, leaving the scrambling desperate James behind.

---

The ceiling in our dorm was not at all interesting. The white, dead paint was sucking the rest of the color from the room, making it seem as dead as I felt inside. The voice that haunted me was inhaling all my life, leaving me a white colorless empty shell, like the ceiling. I wondered how much more I could handle of his constant presence, all my energy was put into restraining him within me; keeping him from controlling my every move like a puppet. It was like climbing up the face of a cliff, hand over hand, a grueling, tedious and not to mention exhausting task. My muscles constantly clenched, my body aching from the strenuous non-stop ascend, and the soreness of my neck from always looking up at the endless rock face, that seemed to go on forever. It reached into the sky like a towering mountain crag, and disappeared into the darkening grey clouds. On the other hand, I knew how easily I could let him win, let him control my body, it would be exactly the opposite of climbing, like falling effortlessly towards the thick and monstrous waves of the ocean below the vertical surface of the cliff, letting my body sink into the thin foggy air, as it whistled past me, and I plummeted into the dark waves below, into his jurisdiction.

Tired of looking at the dull ceiling, and the depressing trail of my thoughts, I pushed myself up on the small bed and turned toward a sleeping Lily. Erin and Erica were on the other side of the room, passed out on the small red sofa that was more the size of a chair. They leaned on each other lazily, their breathing synchronized, the slight moonlight gleaming dismally on their blondish hair. I sighed heavily and heaved myself off the mattress and swung my legs over the side of the cot. It squeaked under my light weight, and I stayed still for a moment, listening to the noises of night that echoed somberly from the cracked open window.

The moon provided me enough light to see as I walked to the red door in my pajamas, my limbs feeling like lead because of my exhausted body. I paused with my hand on the bronze doorknob, looking at the dim room from the golden reflection on the round handle. The curtains swished silently, as a light breeze drifted in through the window. Crickets sang sadly outside. I released my light grip on the knob, pressing my back slowly against the door. As I watched the leaves on the trees rustle subtly out the window, a lone gray cloud passed over the grey moon. The room darkened slightly as the cloud passed and then the pale silver light returned, casting dramatic shadow across the floor. I slid down the wooden door, and slumped to the ground, weaving my fingers through the maroon carpet. I was too tired to go outside, even though I longed for the fresh air and the freedom of the wind. Instead I watched from the open window across the room, listening to a distant anguished howl of an unknown animal, and I wondered briefly what had made it feel so sorrowful.

-----

I awoke with a start, the dream still thick in my mind. My heart was racing like a scarred rabbit fleeing a forest fire, my skin was coated in a thin film of sweat much like mourning dew, and I was breathing as if I had just ran a marathon. The fear from the vivid nightmare was paralyzing, and as I glanced around the room franticly, it took me a moment to realize that I was just where I was yesterday.

Nothing had happened.

I swallowed hard, and choked back a hiccup-y sob, gulping air as I did so, like I had been under water for too long. Panting I pushed myself up shakily, flashes of shady images flaring behind my eyelids. The imagery was too much for my conscious mind to handle, and I stumbled to the bathroom just in time to puke in the toilet bowl. I choked, and gagged again, swallowing lungfuls of air. Tears streamed soundlessly down my cheeks, as I lay down on the cold tile floor of the bathroom. I thanked Merlin that Lily and the twins stayed all night. If they had left even for a moment, I'm sure I would be in worse shape, although it's hard to believe at the moment.

When I sleep, and the constant defenses I keep up while I'm awake fall, the dark cloaked man who haunts me has access to my vulnerable mind. If I'm not alone, he will simply bombard me with painful nightmares, some—I believe—are just memories of myself with him (how I know him I don't know) but he adds pain and fear so thick it clouds my mind like a dense cold fog, and I end up waking up like this –every time. But…if I'm alone, it's a whole new story. If there are people present he does not dare make a scene, or produce solid evidence of his presence, but when no one is around, and I am sleeping, he attacks me…physically. I end up screaming trapped in an endless painful nightmare, and when I finally awake, scratches in the pattern of long fingernails coat my body, broken ribs and bruises. They are real. As real as him, and the danger that surrounds me.

When I was able to stand, I examined my self in the bathroom mirror, its mid-evil surface showing that I had no external injuries. Although, since I fell asleep next to the door, with my face smashed against the rug, I had a lovely carpet pattern on the left side of my face. My eyes showed no evidence of expelling tears, and my face returned into its usual cold mask. I examined my features with disgust. My glossy eyes the color of a depthless indigo ocean with thick lashes framing the stormy pools. My sun-golden skin stretched tight over the cheekbones of my face, and the flawless airbrushed look I'd only ever scene in muggle make-up magazines. And then my hair, the dark sable loose curls waved wildly around my _perfect_ face, hanging nearly down to my ribcage. I cringed away form my reflection, I did not deserve such disarming beauty. In fact looking at my repulsive reflection, I realized when I saw my face; I saw the hatred, the pain, the sadness, and the misery, emotions directed intensely upon my self. I raised my angry fist, ready to strike the cold, dead mirror staring at back at me blankly, but I thought better, letting my clenched hand fall limply to the white porcelain sink.

Instead I stepped away from the haunting reflection, deciding it best to take a shower, and wash away my stress before my fist day of classes. I locked the door and let the searing hot water wash away my worries for the moment.

I tumbled out of the shower just as Lily woke. She smiled sleepily at me, looking like a languid orange kitten as she stretched, and padded into the bathroom herself. I dressed quickly, finding it easier to put on attire when there was only one thing I could choose, the school uniform. I didn't bother brushing my hair, or caking on make-up like the twins were doing happily by the full sized mirror. Both of them were plopped on the maroon carpet leaning towards the reflective surface, cursing loudly whenever they poked their eyes with the vile substance. Lily was ready soon after, and we all made our way down to the dinning hall, walking down the still-dark corridors as Erin and Erica's voices bounced off the walls excitedly.

Breakfast looked rather unappealing. Perhaps it was the fact that I had a sneaking suspicion I would be vomiting it up the next morning. I ate slowly and did not accomplish much. I barely finish the small cup of cereal in front of me. The mealtime ended abruptly when the stern looking woman from yesterday night started handing out schedules. I took mine with out glancing at it.

Lily suggested that we head to our classes about ten minutes to eight, and I agreed full heartedly, watching the light reflect on the polished floor as Lily and I made our way to the Great door. It danced and shimmered. Looking like the floor was the one projecting the shimmering array of luminosity. But I was pulled out of my revere when Lily stopped me before we reached the large wooden doors.

"Hold on, lets open our schedules now, to see if we have any of the same classes" She suggested. " If not, I'll just walk you to your first class. I don't want you getting lost." She grinned at me. Actually I had most of the castle memorized, from last night's tour, but I wasn't going to say that.

"That would be _thrilling_." I muttered sarcastically. "I would probably get ambushed by these psycho portraits." I snorted coldly, glaring at the closest painting. Lily laughed lightly, ignoring my bitterness, as always since the moment we met. Again I am thoroughly surprised she puts up with me. So far, that is. I ripped mine open carefully, more slowly than necessary, as if opening a letter from an address and person you knew as dead. The thin paper slipped into my hands and I shoved the outer shell of the envelope in my bag, to dispose of later. When I unfolded the white parchment, Lily was already scanning hers, mumbling to herself. I sighed and looked down at it, dreading this day with the icy intensity of a numbing winter.

Shuffling footsteps and chatty, fairly tired sounding voices approached us, and I heard Lily beside me look up and groan quietly. Whatever the reason I didn't have the energy to glance at the cause, and leaned against the smooth wall slightly, my eyes tracing the paper.

Adv. Transfiguration, Prof. McGonagall

Adv. Divination, Prof. Trelawney

History of Magic, Prof. Binns

Adv. Potions, Prof. Horace E.F. Slughorn

Adv. Defense against the Dark Arts, Prof. Lockhart

Care of Magical Creatures, Hagrid

Adv. Anciant Runes….ect

What is all this advanced nonsense? I've never been to a school in my life. I quickly scanned my memory to back up my statement, the results came up empty.

No memories remember?

What a painfully ironic sentence.

I was only vaguely aware of the voices talking with Lily, who was reluctantly answering. Paying them no mind, I continued to search through my faulty recollection. My mind skipped through my most recent thoughts, backtracking until the day I awoke in London. This I remembered clearly.

_The floor was cold. Very cold, sucking the heat out of my body as if draining my life. My eyes were still closed, I had only woken moments ago, my body still weary, and groggy, not to mention the feeling of awakening from the dead. Noises around me were faint, far away, but not literally, just to my adjusting ears. My body was propped against an uncomfortable object, my head lolled to one side as I battled the sleepiness, trying to find the energy to open my eyelids. A task that seemed the equivalent of opening an old rusted window. I took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of my surroundings. I could taste the musky thick smell of dirt and urine, and my nose crinkled involuntarily. A sudden __**swish, **__jolted me out of my trance like state__**, **__and my eyes flew open, my body suddenly alert. I could here the vibrations of the noise still echoing. It took me a moment to realize that that swish, was actually a flush. And the noise came from a dirty public toilet. I had woken up in the stall of a London bathroom._

I pulled myself out of the memory and attempted to flit further back into my mind, searching for something that dated back further. There was nothing, a blank wall, so disturbingly impassive it burned my eyes. I growled under my breath, and it was this moment that the conversation around me had _turned_ to _me_. How repulsive. Couldn't they leave me out? Who ever they were.

"And who might this be?" An overly attractive male voice asked coyly, extending a large masculine hand into my vision, which was directed casually downward to my school classes. I didn't glance up, and focused on subtly creating a bored expression, which wasn't hard considering. "Allow me to introduce my self," he continued with out pause, "I'm Romeo, ready to fall in love?" I heard muffled laughter from beside him, laughing most likely at theincrediblycheesyline. As I looked up slowly, I wiped my face clean of emotion. I noted James Potter standing beside the boy who was currently _attempting_ to talk to me. Potter was most likely the reason for Lily's icy expression. I raised one finely arched brow at the young man in front of me. His hair dark, disheveled and messy, his tie crooked and shirt wrinkled, with an award winning idiot grin. First glance, the guy seemed like a dumbfuck. Just as slowly I turned my attention back to my schedule, hating all the adv.'s I saw on it.

"That was smooth," I answered in a bored tone. "How many times have you been rejected on that one." My tone came out icier than I anticipated, sharper, like the silver glint in a pointed knife. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him recover from my insult and strike a more casual pose, retracting his hand defensively. But then a wild and arrogant grin stretched across his features unexpectedly.

"None, actually." He said, his tone completely ignoring my previous comment.

"Well that says something about the girls here." I muttered sarcastically under my breath, and he chuckled. I shot him a cold glance, and handed Lily my class list, turning towards her also. "Why do most of my classes say advanced?" I questioned wearily, feeling the lack of sleep hallow out my bones. She eyed it for a moment, set on the distraction from Potter who was shooting questions about her summer at her a mile a minute.

Without looking up she answered.

"Mmm. I don't know." She handed it back to me, "Have you ever gone to a school for witch craft and wizardry before?' She inquired, piercing her lips in contemplation as she handed it b=back to me.

"No." everyone's eyebrows raised in shock.

"Well…that is strange. But Dumbledore chose all your classes for you because you didn't take the O.W.L.'s. Maybe he has reason to believe your exceptionally good at magic." She smiled prettily and then glanced around the Hall. "We should get going, We have the first two classes together al least." And then we were off, leaving dumb and dumber—looking confused—behind.


	3. Convenient Closets

Lily's P.O.V

I watched as Kira flitted across the extensive field beside Hogwarts. The grass swished subtly as the warm breeze dusted over the campus. Her movements were so graceful and nimble I could see why half the student body was talking about her at this very moment. She turned half way, her slim shoulders shifting only slightly and her long dark hair lifting in the wind.

She was checking to see if I was still following, when her eyes locked with mine, I smiled warmly, happy to have met her before anyone else. She returned the smile hesitantly. It seemed smiling was a new trend with her, and I felt privileged I was the only one she ever smiled at. How long had it been since I met her? Four days? It couldn't be. I felt like I'd known her since childhood, like some long lost sister. The only thing is…I actually knew nothing about her. She's told me nothing—and I haven't pressed—but that wasn't an issue. It seemed we just naturally fit together. And in a mater of four days we were best friends.

Most of everybody was out on the lawn today, enjoying the sunshine while it lasted. Saturday had finally arrived and the happiness of the weekend was mixed in with the back-to-school jitter. I lugged my bag along side Kira; I had no idea why we hadn't stopped yet, the lush still young grass all seemed the same to me.

"Kira, I'm pretty sure the saying--the grass is greener on the other side—is just an expression." I grunted as I dragged my heavy pack filled with textbooks, she grinned at me and stopped for a moment, letting me catch up.

"Really Lily, its not that far. If you're going to be a complainer, ill carry that for you." She reached down and slung my bag over her shoulder with ease. I scowled and she glanced around skeptically. "I just don't want anybody eaves dropping." I smiled at her. She's not going to tell me anything top secret, so don't get excited. That's just how she is, always cautious and paranoid.

It was only about fifty more yards until she dropped our bags and in one fluid movement—that made her look like a dancer—she slipped to the ground. I felt pretty pathetic traipsing across the lawn empty handed while Kira carried both heavy bags, but my pity was momentary.

"How much homework do you have?" I asked sitting down next to her. She shrugged. Glancing at me out of the corner of her eyes while sliding her thick Transfiguration's textbook from her bag, while tossing me my pack easily—almost like it was a book full of feathers and not fifty pounds of books. I grunted, as I took on the wait, dragging it on the grass to scoot it closer to me.

"How do you mean? Amount or time?" She grinned at me, and I rolled my eyes scrounging around in my bag for my textbook. Kira was exceptionally smart. Not just a work-a-holic nerd like I was, but completely and utterly blow-my-mind-holy-crap-smart. She was just naturally _good_ at everything. It was blasphemy! But hey, she was excellent at helping me if I ever needed help, and she definitely had the time, because she finished mounds and mounds of homework—that would take even the best, at least four hours to finish—in one measly hour. Hello new study buddy!

"Time." I answered, pulling out the essay I started yesterday and smoothing out the wrinkled.

"Mmmm…." She thought, rolling her eyes toward the sky while tapping her chin. " An hour? Maybe two?" She straitened her back and smiled. "But ill stay as long as you need." She closed her eyes lightly, facing the sun, as it warmed her skin. "I'll just enjoy the sunshine." She fell faintly backwards onto the soft grass, her eyelids still closed.

"Your already done aren't you?" I crossed my arms watching Kira's lips curl into a delicate smile.

"Almost." She peaked at me quickly before squeezing her eyes shut again and laughing, rolling onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows and plucking a piece of over grown grass. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

I sighed and tossed by book to the ground with a thunk and plopped down next to her mimicking her position.

"Homework can wait." I sighed again and she glanced quickly at me but then returned her eyes to the small strand of grass twirling between her fingers.

"Something on your mind Lily?" She asked casually, tossing the green thread away and picking another. Was something on my mind? Of course. But I wouldn't dare ask her. I felt intrusive asking about the strange things I'd witnessed with her. I'd even made a list.

Kira would roll her eyes at this. Another list?, she would say. Kira had a strange amusement with my infatuation of lists, she always laughed—a free bubbling noise, surprisingly pleasant and fresh—when I started a new one.

"Of course there is stuff on my mind! I'm actually considered smart, you know. Not as smart as you, but I'm still pretty clever." I grinned at her tapping my forehead, and she returned the smile, slightly hesitant. Kira didn't press, although I could tell she saw through my evasion, and returned to plucking grass.

"Brace yourself," Kira warned in a mummer. "Double E's approaching fast." I glanced in the direction she was looking, but didn't glimpse the twins. "Behind us," She clarified.

I turned, flipping over from my stomach and sitting up, tugging down my shirt in the process, and smoothing my wild hair. Sure enough, Erin and Erica (or double E's as Kira named them so affectionately) trotted over to us, about thirty yards away, grinning as their hair swung from side to side with the movement of each step. I glanced at Kira out of the corner of my eye—wondering how she knew they were nearing—and noting she had gotten up and was getting out a pencil, curiously enough. I thought she wasn't doing homework.

Before the twins even reached us, they were already talking.

"Hey guys! How's it going! You'll never guess what we just heard!" Erin sang excitedly, while Erica finished for her.

"Sirius Black hooked up with Kate Biros last night! From Huflepuff!" They dissolved into giggles. "All right ladies," They said plopping down, and slapping down a piece of paper on the soft grass. "Place your bets! How long do you think she'll last?"

Ugh. Not again. The twins and their sad obsession with Sirius Black was downright exasperating.

-----Kira…..

Mondays are always the worst. No doubt everyone would agree with me. Tuesdays are equally as mournful—still so early in the week there is no hope, and Monday has taken its toll, already making everyone wary and tired. The two worst days of the week, and of course, made even worse yet by the infamous Sirius Black. Someone I avoid at every circumstance, but seeing as he attends two of my classes it makes it too difficult, beyond his worth.

Its not just Sirius Black, its all of humanity who I try to avoid, Sirius Black just makes my already frayed nerves fizzle like faulty electrical wiring. His insistent questions, annoying demeanor, undying arrogance, unrelenting personality, self defined rudeness, the _very_ face he wears, the undeserved popularity, the way he uses the girls at this school like objects at his disposal, the way he talks like we're old friends, and the _ease_ in which he lays his filthy paws on me. _Everything _about him makes me shiver with the utmost disgust and disregard. Just thinking about the unnerving slob makes my fists clench in anger, and at this point I'm in no mood to deal with him. This insignificant boy makes the clam exterior I build up and retain shatter like thin delicate glass, with all the angry glistening crystal shards and splinters that make heated ill-tempered blood flow. I try _so_ hard to ignore him—so hard it aches deep with in my white-bone ivory ribcage—but he sparks something animal inside me, making me loose control like a coiled lion. And of course, since the boy has every other bad trait, he also, ironically, has very bad timing.

I stiffen when I feel an arm tossed casually over my shoulder, the heat burns my flesh, like a flat sun pressed between our skin. I could hear him suck in a breath before he was going to speak, but I beat him to it. Sort of. A horrific ripping snarl erupts from my throat, and I whip his arm off, spinning to face him so I can shove him away violently. He smacks into the hallway corridor wall, hitting the closed doors of an old broom closet, and then lands on the polished hallway floors with a satisfying slap. I wasn't aware I was capable of such force, but my mind was in such a rage I was beyond thoughts. I towered over him, seething, my usually attractive face pinched with fury, my dark blue eyes darkened further, my sleek brown hair took on a wrath of its own and turned wild and fierce. He seemed surprised the moment he hit the ground, but he recovered quickly. Too quickly for my liking. He stood with as much dignity as he could manage, springing up with his usual buoyancy, this deepened the color of my anger, turning it swiftly from red, to a deep, rich scarlet that was thick with hatred, burning hot in my mind.

"Wow, Thornhill. In a bad mood today?" He antagonized—rattling my already strained cage—while fixing his shirt and smiling bitterly at me. "Oh wait! Your in a bad move everyday." Black informed me sourly, obviously sore about my sudden violence.

"Yes, you would think people would take a _hint_, and. Leave. Me. Alone." I remarked nastily, taking a threatening step forward. He stood his ground, clenching his jaw, the tendons in his neck stretching, becoming taut with anger. The thick sinewy muscles in his tanned athletic arms also surged with sudden stress, due to his clenched first.

"Maybe," He started, between clenched teeth, also taking an intimidating step towards me. His broad-shoulders body standing above me, his large fists still clenched. "Your _hints _aren't clear enough." He growled. My pulse pounded furiously in my temples, my vision blurred with sudden uncontainable outrage. What!? Was he insane? How could I possibly make the message any clearer—glares, threats, unfriendly behavior, domestic violence, bullying, rudeness, and blunt insults—that I don't want to be messed with? Everyone else seemed to get it, and took it very seriously. With a sudden unstoppable furious impulse, I flicked out my wand, the closet doors behind him flew open, and he spun around bewildered, as I shoved him in the closet and slammed the door shut with such force they rattled the surrounding walls. I shot a spell at the lock, sealing it shut, and took a long, inaudible calming breath. Restraining any other lashes of fury.

"Was that clear enough?" I snarled and stalked off down the hallway to my next class, History of Magic.

---

When I arrived, Erin—who had the same class—had saved me a seat. She looked up as I shoved back the chair and sat angrily down, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes. She smiled up at me, her brown eyes shinning with new gossip no doubt.

"Guess what?" She whispered excitedly, bouncing in her seat, as Professor Binns entered the classroom and began his lecture. There was no need to pay attention, the homework was easy. Erin continued to gush about something unnecessary, but my mind stayed still, taking in no useless information she was undoubtedly supplying me with. "By the way," She finished, glancing around the room. "Where is Sirius Black?" I ducked my head guiltily, biting my lip, and pretending to scribble furiously on my parchment. Erin eyed me suspiciously. She knew about Black and I, and our impending quarrels along with the rest of the school. "Kira…." She warned doubtfully. "What did you do to Sirius?...."

I'm not proud to say Erin and Erica are members of said *** cough *** 'fan girls'. I know, I know. Merlin help us all.

I didn't answer. My silence triggered another probing warning. "Kira…"

I smiled innocently.

"What did you do to Sirius?" She demanded more forcefully now. I cleared my throat nervously. No wrath is like Erin or Erica when their beloved Black's in harms way.

"I locked him in a closet." I said calmly, glancing up at Professor Binns and writing down what he just mentioned. This has got to be the dullest class in the universe.

Erin's jaw dropped. "You did what?" shrieked her high trilling voice, earning a stern look from the Professor and a few hushes around the room. She lowered her voice, and leaned closer. "Is he still in there?" She asked worriedly, looking distressed. I rolled my eyes and shifted away from her, dipping my quill in the ink jar.

"I hope so." I replied lightly, "He disserved it."

"I'm sure." Erin grumbled bitterly, and I smiled sweetly at her, hoping she wouldn't give me too much grief the rest of class.

----

I walked into the dinning hall alone, Erin had left me to go rescue Black. I didn't tell her which closet he was in, pity, he might be in there a little longer. Lily was smiling at me from our usual spot of the last week, a large book in hand. I slid onto the bench next to her, scanning all the food I wouldn't be eating.

Since I stopped ingesting food, I found the mornings quite more bearable with out puking out yesterday's meals. Not throwing up was far more satisfactory than having the pleasure of hanging my head over the open toilet bowl. I don't know what it is about these dreams that make the urge to throw-up so overwhelming. It's as if my body can't handle the images, and is trying to expel them anyway possible.

"Hey Lily, how was ancient runes?" I asked lightly, attempting to smile, but failing miserably. She laughed at my effort, and patted a seat on the bench next to her.

"Alright. I just cant seem to do these translations though." She glared warily down at her work.

"Ill help you." I piped up, happy to finally do something for Lily in return for all the kindness she's shown me. She smiled hopefully.

"Really?" She asked, looking a lot like a cheerful child.

"Yeah, How about after dinner?" She grinned and slammed her text book closed.

"That's good. Now I can focus on eating." She grinned up at me with a mouthful of rolls. I smiled too, and looked down at my plate and scooted the food around with my fork, making it look like I had eaten.

----

Potions went by with out event. I must say all these classes are close competitors for first place in the most boring, but I think History of Magic still takes the prize. At least in potions you get to mix things in cauldron. Talk about fun.

I was dreading my Defense Against the Dark Arts class with even more vigor. Guess who's in this class? Yeah, kill me now.

I smirk when I realize he's probably steaming from this morning. If he shows. Maybe he's still in that dusty broom closet.

That would be a miracle.

The hallways fill with ambling students, milling around before filing into their next class. They part ways for me as I walk, in regard to the last student who messed with me. Luis Grant, who thought it was entirely okay to pin me against a wall with all his arrogance.

He thought wrong.

The class was already mostly full, only a few students now trickled through the door like ambling ants, on their way home from a long journey. Black was glaring at me from across the room, sitting with best mate James Potter, who wasn't entirely bad, but I hated him for Lily's sake and mine. Anyone who consciously chooses to sit next to Black is not on my friends list, excluding Erin and Erica, who are temporarily brainwashed. Ill be sure to fix that later.

A girl named Kate Biros sat next to me, and sniffled pathetically, looking like she had just wasted away her life drowning in tears. I shifted uneasily, eyeing her wearily. Crying people make me uncomfortable.

Professor Lockhart called attention to the class, and I reluctantly turned my attention to him, shooting an anxious glance at the crying girl beside me who was trying fruitlessly to pull her self together.

The Professor watched her hesitantly for a moment, and then turned to his lesson, announcing that tomorrow would be the day we got are skills assessed--as this was the advanced class--and get a partner picked for us based on that assessment. I groaned inwardly, black magic was curiously my strong point....

....and so was Black's.


	4. Fist Encounters

Only Tuesday. The thought made my heart sink like the dead weight of an anchor. Why did time seem to drag endlessly? Stretching on and on like a far off horizon. It wasn't fair. I wanted it to end, how much easier would it be if I ceased to exist? How much pain would I be spared? Or would I tumble endlessly through space, for the rest of eternity, not actually death at all.

Barely Tuesday. The clock on the far wall above the window ticked away, the long hand sliding one notch closer to two o'clock—am. I sighed and pulled my slender legs to my chest, wrapping my arms delicately around them, and resting my chin on the round bend of my bent knees.

The darkness of the room seemed to swallow me, pulling me further away from Lily, sleeping peacefully on her cot, and The Twins, who snored softly on the beds to the left. I would not let sleep take me again. Those horrible nightmares would return, like every other time I closed my eyes. I sighed, a phantom breath in the inky darkness, the only light coming form the stars outside the open window. There was no moon tonight.

I could feel fatigue ache deep within my muscles and brittle bones, my body seemed to melt into the mattress beneath me, begging me to rest, to let myself recharge. I felt like a burnt out battery, and I knew my body needed a break from constant consciousness. But would unconsciousness be so much better? The word sounded pleasing, but I knew what lurked beneath the appealing word, pain, sorrow, fear, weakness, and complete and utter subjugation. He could get me when I slept, and he caused those awful nightmares, filled with such wild blinding terror and searing sharp pain.

Or were they memories? I wouldn't know, I didn't remember anything about my past, nothing. I wondered if the man who terrorized me used an Obliviate charm to erase my memory. But then, why would he continue to harass me, telling me he would get me back, even showing me memories, if he was the one who let me go and erased my memory in the first place? No, that was wrong, he wanted me to remember, so he wouldn't ruin my recollection. But did I block the memories from my mind because it was something _I _didn't want to remember? That didn't seem right either, the only plausible answer was that I somehow escaped from him and managed to get my memory stolen in the process.

My brain revolted from this intense focused thought process, pulling me away from it to a much simpler place…sleep. No! I couldn't fall asleep.

I jerked away from the tempting bed in a sudden rush. My feet hit the floor and my energy level immediately went down, the adrenaline leaving me, and I lurched on my feet, my body sagging to the ground. How long had it been since I slept? For real, without waking up from awful nightmares that drained me more than actual consciousness? I tried to remember but my thoughts dropped off midway.

I needed something to keep me awake. I stumbled out of the dorm in search of…an awake potion. Maybe that would work. I sure hoped so.

---

"Oh wait!" I stopped midway to the Great Hall, and Lily stopped too, looking at me expectantly. "I forgot my Trans. Text book. Ill go get it, meet you later." I turned to leave, clutching the smooth surface of the potion bottle in my pocket, the pleated skirt brushing against my bare thighs as I retreated down the sun lit hallway.

"Okay, see you at breakfast." She said cheerily, skipping off with Erin and Erica. I hurried down the halls, passing students who were wandering in the opposite direction, giving me wondering looks. I ignored them.

The truth is, I forgot my book on purpose. I thought maybe I could skip out on breakfast, or most of it. Less awkwardness when I didn't eat. Lily was starting to notice.

"Hey, foxy." Said a male voice, who moved out of the line of trickling students and took pace with me, looking me up and down. I ignored him, and pulled the glass potion vile out of my robes and took a swallow of the light pink liquid, flinching as the fowl taste brushed against my taste buds and settled uncomfortably in my hollow stomach. "Wow, what's that?" A hand snatched the slim tube out of my hand, and I turned seething, ready to curse the fucker to oblivion, when I saw his face.

Ugh. Black. He was examining the slim bottle casually, with his usual arrogance when my fist struck his jaw. Flesh against flesh, with a loud smack. He fell backwards, and hit his head ungracefully on the ground as I snatched the vile out of the air as it was tossed carelessly as he fell. I slipped it into my pocket and waited for him to get up, people were staring at us. He didn't get up. He didn't move.

"Bloody Hell." I growled, as I leaned over him, examining his face for any sign of being hurt. Suddenly his eyes sprung open, an evil smile gracing his flawless tan skin. He sat up straight and I barely had a chance to react before his strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me down on top of him, his warm lips crushing against mine. My mind was so muddled with shock, anger and disgust that I didn't even feel the heat of his skin against mine, and I didn't even feel the lips against mine. All I did was react like I would in any situation.

My fist collided with his jaw again and I shoved him back standing rigidly as I shrieked insults at him like I was shooting bullets. He just sat on the ground looking extremely pleased with himself. This fanned my anger, but as he didn't respond but smirk at me like he discovered some secret, I could think of no other option.

I pointed my wand at him and suddenly he was unconscious, slumped on the floor, his sleek black hair messily disheveled. I sighed out of release, feeling much calmer, like I was suddenly upon a lone mountain in the cool morning air. I took another deep breath, and took a few steps back in the direction I was headed and turned halfway back before shooting the counter spell at him—Rennervate—rousing a confused Black from his much needed (inner) beauty sleep, but I was already down the hall, leaving all the shocked and confused students behind.

---

I entered the Great Hall no more than ten minutes later, and began to walk over to Lily, Erin and Erica, hoping they hadn't heard about the commotion in the halls. They were leaned over the breakfast table, having an intense conversation in hushed whispers.

Curiosity devoured my insides, I had never seen the twins look so serious, there faces filled with a sort of horror I never knew possible on their carefree faces.

As I approached I only caught the last sentence Lily whispered across the Gryffindor table to Double E. "Its true, he's recruiting again, I heard it from—" Her sentence cut short by my question.

"Who?" I asked casually, purposefully being ignorant to their preoccupied tones. She glanced up, no smile, all seriousness.

"The Dark Lord." She answered, her voice dropping a notch lower. I tired to control my reaction. My body went still my mind froze with sudden shock, a wave of nausea washed over me, and goose bumps rose on the flesh of my arms. It was as if the gears in my mind stopped, clogged by some object. The Dark Lord? Where had I heard that before...? I could feel his sudden presence rising within me, preparing to speak. This topic interested him.

_Yes, Where have you heard that name before?_

Came his mocking, chilling voice, as it echoed hollowly off the inside walls of my body, followed by an icy chuckle, creating tiny shards of ice to splinter on my bones. Could it be him? Could this man, this man who talked to me in my head and invaded my dreams, this man I somehow knew but have no idea where from, could this man be the dark lord? My stomach rolled with a new wave of nausea, and I forced my self to sit on the bench, my body movements stiff and rigid. Lily was watching, but at the moment I could care less.

"What's his name?" I asked as casually as I could manage. She watched my facial expressions cautiously, and I made my best effort to produce a mask like barrier that gave her no information.

_Voldemort_

His hissing voice shocked my body again, and I struggled to suppress a physical reaction that Lily would surely notice. His voice was so sharp it created physical pain within me that rocketed through my body.

"Voldemort," she answered slowly, gagging my reaction. No! It couldn't be! Why was this man haunting me?

_Really, Stupid girl. Do you honestly not remember _me?His thought was arrogant. _I thought I would have a lasting impression..._

Another sarcastic cold laugh, and he let another ripple of pain roll through my body, giving me a taste of what type of impression he was talking about.

Lily watched me for another moment, as I battled inwardly, before continuing what she was saying before I arrived.

"He's recruiting followers again…" And the discussion continued…

-----------------------------------------------------()-------------------------------------------------------------

Time seemed to hate me.

Along with the clock.

Every time I looked at the bloody contraption, it seemed to move even slower.  Lunch was in ten minutes, and History of Magic was literally boring me to death. Maybe it was professor Binn's monotone voice, or maybe it was the fact that freedom was mere minutes away. It didn't matter, my head was rattling like a caged bird—repeatedly bashing against the confinements in order to escape—while we were forced to learn the most unnecessary information you could possible imagine.

Not to mention I realized that the Awake potion I had been drinking all day was similar in effect to caffeine—a muggle drug used as a system stimulant—which was making me feel as jittery as a child on sugar. I sighed heavily, as an uncontrollable urge to move washed over me like a gushing river, and I suppressed the sudden burst of energy, leaving me feeling uncomfortably edgy.  I glanced at the clock for the millionth time this class period while tapping my slender fingers on the smooth wooden desks impatiently. My small movement caught Erin 's attention, who sat—equally as bored—beside me, and she frowned disapprovingly in my direction. I guess I was still being shunned by the Twins. They nearly ate my eyeballs during 2nd to 3rd break having had heard about my little 'spat' with Sirius Black. No wrath was like Erin and Erica when their oh-so-perfect favorite boy was harmed in any way. If I even mentioned his name in a bad tone they would nearly jump me.

It was ridiculous. 

 I was yanked back to the present when students started plowing past me, sprinting towards the door. I immediately joined in, flinging the parchment with my pitiful notes in my bag, and jogging to catch up with Erin to tell her I was going to the library for lunch. She flashed me a confused look as we glided through the sun lit halls of Hogwarts; the painting's eyes watching the students amble by with mild interest, only because they were bored. 

"The library doesn't serve food." She said, sounding equally as confused as her expression proved. I rolled my eyes playfully in her direction, 

"Im not going there to eat." And watched as her face twisted to one of realization as it dawned on her just as we were passing the Great Hall. 

"Oh, alright…" Her sweet voice hesitant, "I guess we'll see you later then. Oh hey, are you and Lily going to the library after classes today? Mind if we joined you?"

 " 'Course not," I replied absently, as we came to a stop outside the door, and voices bubbled to meet my ears like the flowing water of a babbling creek. 

"K, see you later." We said our good byes and she disappeared through the doors with the rest of the hungry students while I made my way upstream of the floundering crowds, finally reaching the library, and trying to sneak in with out the exceptionally cranky librarian seeing me. The effort paid off, as I slipped into an empty table out of sight from the pungent woman who reminded me a lot of sickly frog. 

The light from the ceiling shone softly on the glossy wooden table as I laid out books for my classes that I didn't actually have to study for. It was just an excuse, I didn't feel up to socializing for the entire lunch hour and I could feel the effects of my Awake potion wearing off, leaving me feeling slightly empty and worn. I pulled out my notebook and used my sweater as a pillow while closing my eyes and attempting to regain some of my vacant energy supply—without sleeping of course. I was jarred away from my peaceful rest by an unfamiliar feeling rippling through my body. It echoed hollowly then, like a fading siren, disappeared. I blinked, surprised, as the feeling washed away, and laid my heavy head back down on the thin sweater I was currently and pathetically using as a pillow, only to be assaulted by the same terrifying sensation.

This time it stayed longer and my fingers and legs began to tingle, and started going numb. My vision also blurred, giant silver and blue spots obstructing my eyesight, as a woozy feeling enveloped me--drowning me in nausea. I gasped as I could no longer see or feel my limbs, the strange eerie feeling completely wracking my system, and I stumbled from my seat to the cold wooden floor. Like murky cool water, another wave--only stronger--washed over me, accompanied by flashes of equally murky and unapparent images behind my tired eyelids, and then suddenly stopped.

There was nothing for a timeless space. 

No sight, no feeling, my exhausted body too weary to move except for my slow even breathing. My fingers tingled, and I rested my back against the wooden leg of the library table to keep my body from slumping to the floor in a heap of my rubber lead limbs. 

And then I could see again. Except, I wasn't really seeing. It was from different eyes, and everything felt wrong.

Too much light.

And too much noise.

Too loud. It was so loud! I could feel the vibrations from the sounds rolling through my eardrums. A high pitched screeching, but not human. Machine. Metal, gears, grinding, and the unquestionable panic that clouded all my senses.

Terror. Raw fear.

Everything was overwhelming. My eyes were closed but I could still see all of this, like a strange dream. But it was too real. I could feel every molecule from this world I was temporarily placed in, the soft pads of my fingers touching the scratchy fabric of something unknown. I could see, just like I would normally, but I wasn't in Hogwarts.

Some place different.

 People were screaming, the sounds to authentic to be imaginary. Could everyone else in the library hear these screams? These terrible tortured, terrified screeches? Fearful, and thick with pain, so clouded over with pain. There was too much. It hurt. It hurt. And then there was another scream...not people, machine, grinding, tearing metal. Something was wrong.  I tried to focus my eyes in this eerily real vision, to find the source of both shrieking noises.  

The first thing I noticed was a woman, who was seated beside me. We were trapped, I could feel something restraining me from moving to her—to help her...a seatbelt. I unbuckled it as I looked down, the feeling of the cool metal hitch and the tightly wound thick belting too real as I slipped it from my waist. I was seated in an uncomfortable seat, one with scratchy fabric and tacky blue patterns. It had plastic armrests that instead of making the seat better, made it worse. There were two rows of these seats. In isles, along the sides of the walls, with tiny rectangular windows all along them. But the walls, were peculiar, curving in so the entire room seemed domed. This is where the people were, seated in their bolted down seats, panicking, struggling to reach for the rubber contraptions that dropped from the ceiling. There was a woman on the intercom trying to calm them, walking them through safety procedures, but her voice was just as terrified.  "...now take and put on the air masks, remember to always take care of yourself first, then you may-- may help the person next to...to you or if you have a child on board. Everyone stay calm, and fasten the air supplier masks securely over your mouths and breath in deeply to start the air flow....the life jackets are located beneath the airplane seats, calmly reach towards them and again fasten them on yourself first before assisting others...." Her tone and pitch fluctuated as she struggled to control her fear. Sounding like she was attempting to hold back tears also.

 An airplane. My brain supplied me. That's what we were on. I had heard about these before. 

The woman next to me with tears streaking down her cheeks was struggling with the mechanism, but something told me to go in the other direction, so I got up from my seat, and balanced my self on the back rest of another. The ground felt unsteady, and was tilted at an extreme downward angle. The noise increased, sounding like a screeching car as it turns sharply around a corner, or the sound in cartoons when something is falling from the sky. The floor lurched again, and more screams filled the hold, and the intercom woman's reassurance fell flat with the addition of her own terrified incoherent sobs.  My stomach did flops, feeling like it was rising up while I was going down, and the unquestionable sensation of being dropped became stronger along with the screams and the noise from the aircraft.  There was a mechanical banner along the wall, above the doorway that led to another section of terrified passengers. The sign flashed red, reading 'flight AA1 to London city Delta airways, 6/3/09, 3:06 p.m...

The date. I glanced at it again to be sure. 

It was todays date.  Three hours form now. 

And suddenly, there was a crash, a giant screeching plummeting crash. Everything jerked, and I flew forward landing painfully against something hard and metal. The terrified wails of grief and fear amped up, until all I could hear was ringing. And then we were submerged in water. Ice cold, shocking ocean water.

And everything was quiet. An eerie, unhealthy silence. Heavy and blue with death and sadness.

 Then all the color and imagery and vivid feelings were gone.

Vanished. Withdrawn.

I could feel the wooden post behind my back supporting me, my fingers and legs numb, I could hear the cranky librarian scolding some poor innocent student, my bottom tingling painfully for sitting on the hard floor too long. I opened my eyes but everything was still blurry, blotched out with silver spots, so I shut them again, and attempted to collect myself.

All the pain and suffering id just witnessed suffocating me like the weight of a million tons of brine filled blue water, and I choking back my own scream of terror.  "Kira? Kira Thornhill? Are you alright? Do you need help?" Came a vaguely familiar male voice, and I struggled to locate the person, but gave up quickly.

Too much energy.

I felt so incredibly weak and drained, like someone was sucking the life out of from a colorful plastic bendy straw. 

This wasnt fair. I didnt want to have this incredible new weight to carry. Was this some signal? Some sign? Was it a vision of the future?

I remembered the person, the unknown, but seemingly trustworthy boy, and turned my head, my blind eyes searching for him unsuccessfully. I gave up again and leaned my head back against the wooden leg of the library table. 

"What time is it?" I asked, not entirely wanting to know the answer. There was a pause, and a shuffle from the right of me, but I kept my eyes closed, focusing on calming my rapid breathing.  

"Its..uh..12:37." He stated, obviously unsure why I wanted this information. My next thought slipped through my lips accidently out loud, and I cringed when I unexpectedly heard my own voice. 

"Ive been out for forty minutes?" My tone and face was surprised, but I immediately closed off, afraid of what he might catch from this. Was it so bad if he knew though? If he knew in two hours from now, people would be dying? Maybe he could help me. No, he was even more juvenile than I was, what I needed was someone with more authority, a teacher perhaps? If so, I should get to one quickly. Were the people who would die on that plane already boarding?  

This couldn't be happening to me. Again, for the millionth time, why me! I felt tears stinging my eyes, and I forced the pathetic routine away, determined to stay strong. To save these people.

 I felt the boy kneel beside me. And suddenly I was aware how close he was, the heat from his body. How could I trust this person? Was he trust worthy? It felt uncomfortable and I felt exposed so close to someone I was unsure I could trust, especially with my state being so vulnerable.

 "Whats your name?" I asked quickly, turning in--I assumed--his general direction, even though my eyesight was still faulty. My body was also still slowly recovering from the numbness.  

"Remus, Remus Lupin. Im in your History of Magic class." Remus Lupin....quiet, smart, kind, and mostly clearheaded. Although he did hang out with Black and Potter, he seemed fairly friendly. No bad intentions. I nodded. I needed to get to a professor, quickly.

 "Will you help me get somewhere?" I asked sweetly, hoping he would help guild me, with my temporary blindness.  

"Sure. Where to?" He helped me up, and I glanced around wildly.  "Dumbledore's office. And if you dont mind...I cant really see..." I trailed off, hoping he would catch on. And not ask questions. He was silent for a moment, and then his voice, coated with genuine worry startled the quiet.  

"Are you sure your alright, Kira?" He asked, as his hand found my elbow to lead me through the halls.

 "To be honest, I dont think you should ever ask me that question. Im never alright, somethings always wrong."


	5. In The Light Of Seeing

The hallways echoed dully as the sounds of our synchronized foot steps bounced off the walls. I squinted at our surroundings, hoping my vision would return soon. It felt wrong having this hand on my back, guiding me. Although I had asked Lupin to lead me, and the weight of his palm was nothing but friendly, I still felt uneasy. I would like to believe the reason was that I did not want to have to depend on someone else, to put my blind trust in someone else's hands, but part of me knew that was not entirely the case, however it did account for some. My discomfort loosened when his arm went slack around me, most likely feeling my stiff tension, and instead I followed his footsteps without further communication. He knew I felt something off about him, and now he was being cautious.

As my eyesight slowly returned, and we became closer and closer to our destination, I felt the overwhelming urge to turn back. Head away from Dumbledore's office. And I struggled to decipher if the feeling was my own, or…the dark lord? Voldemort?

His deep hissing chuckle—laughing most likely at my thought process—answered my internal question. But his laugh was humorless; there was impending distress laced with his eerie tone.

_Why waste your breath telling that insignificant _Dumbledore _about your little daydream? _He mocked, but again, his voice was intertwined with panic, anxiety that he went through lengths to hide. But when he chose to link our minds, that meant we shared most thoughts and I could feel this tight worry in the throat of all his inner notions. He noticed my observations, and as quick as flames his distress reared up and burned to anger. His thoughts lashed at my insides, his firey breath licking the inner walls of my body and causing me so much unexpected pain I had no time to brace myself before my body collapsed to the cold floors of Hogwarts.

Lupin was at my side in an instant helping me up, asking me what happened, and his face contorted with panic and concern. I gathered myself up again, composing my expression to a more collected quality as Voldemort raged on inside me. My teeth clamped down on my lower lip as I struggled to grasp hold of conciousness. Blood from my lip trickled down my chin in a thin stream of red, and agrily, I wiped it away smearing my white uniform shirtsleeve with scarlet. Remus continued to shoot questions in my direction, but I ignored his concern and focused on controlling the scream of pain that was going to burst through my throat any minute.

…_Mugggles are on that plane. They don't deserve to live! They are a waste of flesh! Let them die. Let them die. Let them DIE!...._

"Paper." I gasped, searching for Lupin, who was holding me up, my back pressed against the wall, and my body threatening to slump to the floor at any moment. He nooded fluidly, handling this situation well, as he complied to my request. He straightened up after retriving them from his bag and handed me a piece of parchment, and a quill. My hand shook as I scribbled on the parchment, writing the airport, the flight, the plane, and the problem—the reason why this paticular flight ended so badly, or was going to. I still had three hours. Voldemort screeched inside my head, fighting to push his control over my limbs forcing me do what he wanted—to rip that paper, to never tell—to let all those people die. He howled in grief as I handed the paper to Lupin, as the parchment passed between us, and was now out of my control. If that parchement with my messy note to Dumbledore reached Dumbledore, hopefully he could stop it, because I didn't have the strength to fight any longer.

But I didn't need to, because Voldemort faded, slowly retreating as I no longer could help him, but not without letting another wave of pain rip though my body.

_You used to be mine._

_You used to __**kill**__ for me…_

_and now __**look**__ at you. Look what you've become._

_You will NEVER escape me…and if I cant have you, _

_no one can…_

His voice shook with un-kept anger as he spat the words at me. My heart was beating faster than a drum, its dull thud pounding in my ears and head. He was gone. I could feel him fading, leaving me once again with my own thoughts.

My eyes stung with the realization that he would never leave me alone.

My life would never be my own.

"Are you okay?" Remus Lupin's voice was softer now, as if he realized it was over. My pain was gone. For now. Confusion still clouded his amber gaze, his eyes full of unanswered questions. He fingered the note, the one that would save all those people. It felt unfair that they had someone to save them, and I didn't. I was alone, on my own. In that moment I felt so small, like the world was suddenly leaving me too, and everyone with it. All of the people I ever knew, and all the ones I didn't waving goodbye, happy smiles placed on their slender lips as the world and all the light led them away. Leaving me with nothing but darkness, that surrounded me, its inky tendrils licking my skin and soaking into my body, filling me with cold, black, ice.

"Im fine," stated weakly, my voice barely managing not to tremble patheticly. Merlin, was I pathetic.

I had to be strong. Voldemort wanted this to happen, he wanted me to break down, loose my streanth, become weak. I would not—could not—allow it. I couldn't afford to loose, my life might be in jeopardy.

Scratch that, it already was. But that hardly mattered to me. What mattered was that he obviously wanted me for a reason, which meant that I somehow was worth a great deal in his eyes, which ultimately ended with the assumption that I was either a weapon in his hands, or a threat to him in someone elses hands.

I swallowed hard as I remembered the words he spoke. That I had killed for him, and my stomach dropped like a stone. Was I capable of killing?

"Could you take that," I nodded toward the folded parchment held lightly between his fingertips, "to Dumbledore for me?" I asked, hoping his compliance would last long enough for me to avoid a confrontation with the head master at this school. I did not want to have to explain myself to him—to tell him how I knew an entire plane was going to crash in the Atlantic Ocean in two hours and forty five minutes.

The passengers screams echoed through my body distantly, like the memory of a storm.

Lupin nodded mutely in response to earlier question, his eyes searching mine for any answers to his own questions, but he did not voice them. Instead he loped down the hallway disappearing around the corner too quickly.

I was alone again. I pushed off the wall I was leaning on—using to hold me up—and picked up my bag. Exhaustion flooded me, and subconsciously I reached into my pocket; to slip my hands around the slender glass vile that had kept me _looking_ alive for the day.

Ugh, it was still only Tuesday.

Instead of my fingers finding the vile, my hand plunged into a pocket full of glass shards. Immediately pain whirled through my system, but it was dull—nothing compared to what I had just experienced. It's sad how regular aguish and regular cuts, bruises, broken bones, just don't hurt anymore. I kept my bleeding hand in the pocket of my dark robe. I didn't want to see the blood just yet.

The potion bottle must have broken when I fell, and instead of grieving over my slashed and injured hand I mourned the loss of my much favored liquid AWAKE potion. I would have to make more tonight.

With a reserved sigh I picked up my disheveled book bag and walked to my least favorite class, made even worse by the knowledge that I would most likely be seated next to my least favorite person.

--

As I entered the mustly smelling classroom, I didn't even attempt to creep in quietly. If Lockhart wanted to punish me, yell at me, I could care less. My numb body and mind would hardly register the retribution.

"How nice of you to join us Miss Thornhill. What do we owe this honor?" Professor Lockhart inquired while walking up the rows of desk to stand directly in front of me, his hands clasped behind his back. " Do you have a late slip?" He asked after waiting for me to respond t his previous statement. I displayed my hands infront of me and shrugged, as if to show him I had nothing.

Lockhart's eyes widened to surprise as he gaped at my boody hand. Chrimson streams of my vital fluid oozed out of the cuts from the sharp glass and dripped down my fingers, gathering in the creases of my knuckles and fingernails. I cringed at my stupidity and shoved my stinging hand back into the safety of my pocket, grimacing as it plunged into the same damned glass.

I wondered if anybody else noticed the unfortunate condition my hand was in.

I kept my gaze on the floor as he muttered for me to take my seat, and pointed me in the direction. My eyes followed his sternly pointed finger to the only empty seat left in the classroom where Black lounged, looking undeniably amused my lateness, and more precisely the scolding I had just received. He obviously did not notice my bloody hand, and that notion filled me with relief. I slinked to my seat as Lockhart told me to please meet him after class. I doubted I would.

Sirius Black smirked at me as my body dooped in my seat, mistaking my fowl mood for being dejected about getting into trouble. He was clearly enjoying my misfortune, although he had no clue why, while he tapped the sharp feather of his quill against his desk observing me with laughing eyes.

I wished my eyes could laugh.

The class went without difficulty until an out of breath Remus Lupin appeared at the doorway asking for me. In fact I even managed to hide my hand from view, ignore Black, and ponder how much it would hurt if I flung myself out the glass window behind where Lockhart preached his half hearted lesson.

Lupin looked disheveled from running, and dazed by appearance. It seemed as if he was aching to know something. Behind him, Preofessor Migonagal slipped through the doorway, justifying his reason for being here important, and ending Lockhart's reluctance. Lupin weaved his way toward me—all the students whispered to eachother, trying to catch what was happening—and Migonagal strode promptly to Professor Lockhart, handing him a parchement note. She through me a sideways glance, an odd mixture of disbelief and respect placed upon her stern features.

As Lupin approached I kept scribbling my notes, hoping he would walk past me, hoping that maybe I could turn invisiable. Beside me Sirius Black gaze was intensly prodding; trying to some how desipher what was happening by staring at me with those slate grey eyes. Remus stopped infront of my desk, and Black looked between us with a cold expression. When I refused to meet Remus's gaze, he pulled the quill from my fingers and slid my paper away leaning over it himself to scribble something for me.

I still could not look him in the eye, even when he continued to train his eyes on me as he slid the paper back to where I sat. His note was scribbled in swirly lettering, and even in his haste, it still looked elegant. But that was not what I was focused on.

_302 lives saved._

_302 families spared loss._

_302 people lived…because of you._

_How?_

It was the last word that triggered my reaction. How? I knew all the questions he was asking with that one word. How did I save them? How did I know? How was this even possible? How come I gave the note to him? _How did I do it?_

I looked up at him slowly, all the same questions swirling in my mind, and just like him, I knew none of the answers.

"I don't know." I answered truthfully. Lockhart was staring at me in incredulity, gaping, his jaw slack. The pressed form between his fingers held up to his face, as if maybe if he held it close enough the words would make sense. He looked at McGonagall astonished.

"A plane?" He asked her, not really seeking an answer. She remained impassive and he turned to me again, his eyes echoing the same word Remus had asked.

_How?_

Suddenly the confinements of the four walls surrounding me were too much to bear. Everyone's eyes swallowing me whole, drowning me with their confused gazes, as their curiosity consumed all the air in the building. My breath came short, my lungs screaming for freedom, to be released from their inquisitive faces.

Before my mind could register what I was doing exactly, my body was fleeing. Slinging my book bag over one slim shoulder while grabbing my notes from my new desk with another arm, the paper cinching as my hand clenched into an angry fist.

If Remus's question was _How?_, mine was _Why?. _

Why me?

I believe that simple statement summed up all the unfairness in this so-called life I was living—no, enduring. Again I contemplated that window, what it would feel like to dive into empty air knowing that nothing would come next. Tempting…but not enough to turn back. I was almost out.

I caught the doorknob with my bloody hand. My sliver cuts stung dully as I gripped the cold brass knob, sweeping out the door, away from everyone's patronizing stares, leaving the stuffy classroom behind.

----------------------------------------()----------------------------------

Knowing how and when I was going to die was not the worst part. No, the worst part was his reaction.

From the moment I closed my eyes and lowered my body to floor, I knew that this vision was like no other. Everything was so real I could almost taste the tension. The teachers were ushering terrified students out of the Great hall doors while trying to obstruct their view of the body—my body—as they passed. Some were crying, others looked stunned, horrified, scared, confused…so many emotions.

It was interesting seeing everyone's grief of my death, but those were not the reactions I was concerned about.

All the teachers mirrored the same stressed, worried expressions, some were even sad. In this vision there was no sound, everything was eerily silent like only my ears were deaf to this commotion. I looked upon the scene from above, as if I were a ghost saying my last goodbyes to the body I once occupied, before floating through the roof and off to spirit world. Where ever that was.

But I was not a ghost, and I couldn't leave. I was stuck watching the pain of all the people I had cared for over something as simple as my own death. This was unfair. I didn't want to see everyones grievance for me, that was why death was so wonderful. But now, when I would actually be dieing, I'd be seeing all their pained faces, reddened eyes, and tear streaked cheeks in my last moments. There would be no wondering what they would feel.

My body lay limp in the center of the room, my eyelids shut lightly, and my hair splayed out behind my head. There was not an imeadiate expression on my face. But when I looked closely I could see the tired appearance on my worn features. Almost as if I were realeved it was over—my life was gone.

It was oddly chilling seeing your dead self. Something I never considered I would see, but here I was. Looking at the huddle of teachers discussing what to do, with my dead limbs just beneath their noses. Their words were lost to my ears, but I could see someone pushing their way through the tight crowd of concerned staff. I tried to zoom in my view of the scene, but it didn't change, and I settled for watching from up above, where I was.

It surprised me the first time around, and now as it replayed for the second time, I was still just as surprised to see a distraught Sirius Black emerge from the teachers' loose circle surrounding my body. He stared for a moment, emotions flashing across his silky brown eyes too fast for me to catch, before his face crumpled with pain, pain so deep it almost seemed physical. I found myself scanning his body for a second time looking for some sort of injury to explain this unanticipated emotion, but again, just like the first time, I saw none.

He collapsed on his knees next to me, as the frightened teachers watched with confusion. He wasn't supposed to be in the Great Hall. I could see that. All the other students had been lead out side the doors and had been demanded to return to their dorms. One professor even moved to remove him, but Dumbledore silenced his attempt, and Instead they all watched his body slump over mine as he buried his face in the fabric of my clothes, heavy, tormented sobs wracked his body and shook his back as he mourned my death.

I was relieved it when the futuristic vision was over, and quickly regained my composure, hoping Lily wouldn't worry too much.

"Is it over?" Lily asked tentatively from beside me. I nodded and rubbed my eyes, trying not to wonder how she got there so quietly.

I spilled all my deadly little secrets to Lily about a week ago. Well, actually last Tuesday, and I still regretted my decision, but couldn't bring my self to not feel relieved she knew everything. I shouldn't have told her. I know. But I'm selfish, and I couldn't deal with my problems alone.

Ever since, she keeps close tabs on me, and her face has become as forlorn as mine when she thinks no one is looking. I shouldn't have told her. I shouldn't have burdened her.

"What was it this time?" She inquired cautiously, but she was still unable to hide the undeniable curiosity in her voice.

I pushed off the carpet in a huff, gaining my balance before returning to face her. I pushed up the corners of my mouth in an attempted smile.

"Nothing important," I replied nonchalantly hopping up on my bed, just as the twins burst through the doors, bearing armfuls of swimsuits. I rolled my eyes as I pulled out my sketchbook and drew the latest vision I had witnessed.

"Come on ladies! It's the hottest day of the year! We can't be inside. Plus, I told Gabie and Cyn we'd meet them down at the lake."

"We come bearing gifts!" Erica sang, dropping her immense heap of swim wear to the floor, before her and her sister dropped to their knees and dug through the pile. Lily hopped up from her seat on our maroon carpeted floor and leapt to their sides

"Where did you get all of these?" Lily exclaimed happily, plucking a red bikini from the pile and holding it up to examine.

"Duh. They're ours. We own them." The twins stated in unison, rolling their eyes at Lily, and turning to me, as I tried my best to shrink into the surroundings of our dorm. I hoped desperately they wouldn't recruit me too.

"Don't think your getting out of this Kira. We need you to compliment our sexiness." They grinned cockily and flicked their hair back in jest, before their expressions suddenly became solemn. " Don't make us use force." Erica warned, shaking her head as if I was suggesting drowning myself.

"We may look small," Erin added with a grin, "But we've got guns!" Lily laughed as they both pulled up their sleeves to reveal some very pathetic looking muscles. I raised my eyebrow at another stunning performance by the twins, and resumed drawing my dead body in the Great Hall.

Drawing out my visions had become a sort of therapy to me.

"I'll go. I'll go. Don't worry." I waved an arm dismissively at them as they continued to rummage through the mound of colorful bikinis.

"Are you coming, Kira?" Lily called as her, Erin and Erica headed for the door, swimsuits on and towels wrapped around all their slim shoulders.

"I'll meet you down there, okay?" I answered swinging my legs over the side of the bed and glaring wearily at the small pile of swimsuits they laid out for me to choose from. They had spent nearly twenty minutes debating which ones looked best with my skin color, as they held them up to the back of my legs as I drew. I sighed and reached down for one, not particularly caring if it was ugly or what freakin' color it was.

Erin peeked her head around the door. "You better," I rolled my eyes in response and started to peel shirt from my sticky skin as I herd the door shut lightly as they left.

Wearing a pair of red shorts and a casual tank top over the swimsuit I hurried across campus to the forbidden forest. The great lawns of Hogwarts were scattered with students lounging on the grass trying to enjoy the heat while it lasted, after all, Fall was approaching fast. They eyed me curiously as I swiftly crossed the lawns, appraising my shoeless self, the towel and scrolled up drawing in my hands, and my exposed shoulders as the straps of my shirt slipped down my tanned skin.

As soon as I was emerged in the darkness of the gnarled trees I walked horizontally to the grass lawn of Hogwarts. Each one of my steps sinking into the mossy dirt beneath me, until finally I reached my destination.

The fence looked more ragged than the last time I visited this place. The vines seemed to have grown twice as tall, their tiny looping green tendrils clinging to the chained link fence as if they were constantly reaching toward the sky. As if they were desperately trying to escape this world, but were only allowed to climb so far before the caged metal enclosure ended. The enclosure was small, maybe five feet by five feet, and the only solid thing within the barrier was a stone well protruding from the moist ground. A forlorn looking bucket dangled by an aged piece of tattered rope. The noise of its creaking swing was drowned out by the groans of the other occupants of the small enclosure. And they were not so solid.

It's strange seeing people who are dead. Although I assure they _were_ people. Now, I assume the right word is ghost. But that doesn't seem quite fitting. If only you could see them, you would understand. I called them the Departed because that was the word written on the fence.

They were neither ghost nor truly flesh. They seemed almost as if a memory made nearly solid. Less substantial than living bodies, but much more than ghosts. They moved toward me, but were stopped by the confinements of the fence, and they rattled chains, moaning in anger filled desire. Almost as if they hungered not only for me, but also for my flesh. Their eyes were blank and staring; they would see me without truly seeing me, the pupils dilated to the point where their eyes looked an inky black. The flesh on their bodies sagged and drooped, hanging limply, lifeless on their bodies almost as if, once they were dead, they had shoved themselves back into their skin, and it never truly fit the same.

I took a step forward, and the rattling of the fence increased, as did their hunger for my flesh by the nearness of my body. Their nostrils filled with the smell of my human skin, of my living body. Their bodies groped the fence, tearing their fingernails and breaking their fingers as they thrashed against the confinements of the fence. One of them, an older woman with gray streaks gracing her hair shuffled toward the fence to join the others in a lurching step, dragging a leg behind that was mangled and torn. The flesh hanging off in large flaps of blood and tissue. Another clawed the fence with the same hallow eyes, his mouth slack against the chains, hanging open and snapping closed like an animal waiting for its prey to come near enough. One of his finders was broken and disjointed and dangled from his hand by a thin strip of skin. All of their clothes were torn, their feet bare and dirty and smudged with gaping wounds and spoiled flesh and blood.

There were maybe six total.

I did what I did the last time I came. Taking the scrolled drawing of the future scene I just witnessed, I climbed a tree with a branch that hung over the top of the fence, and with as much precision as I had, I dropped the scroll into the well bucket that hung just above the reach of the Departed.

Bellow, the Departed reached up at me with desperate mangled limbs, their jaws slack, hanging open an then closing in a repeated motion. Their moans also increased, using each other to franticly try and reach me, but all their movement were slow, and I knew they could not get to me from up here.

In the bucket I could see the other drawing I drew, the ones last week I had dropped in this same bucket.

I was about to climb down when I heard a noise behind me, not from the fence below. My already racing heart thumped painfully against my chest to the point where I thought it possible for it to leap through my ribcage. There was another crunch of footsteps. Could it be more of the Departed? Were there more roaming the forests? I swallowed hard at the thought, their hallow eyes and the hunger for flesh on their expressions flashing before my eyes. I had considered what I would do if the Departed ever escaped their confinements, but that was always out run them. I had never considered there to be more. What if they surrounded me? I thanked Merlin I was in a tree.

Another footstep. But as the step came closer it became clearer that these were not the shuffling footsteps of a Departed, but the steps of a self assured _living _person. I let out a slitent breath of relief, but remained my post with in the high branches of my tree. I wished I had not left my wand, and towel on the gorund, as I peered down at them from above.

Suddenly, a person came to view, and it was obvious that this was not some flesh eating monster, but a Hogwarts student. He approached casually as if he was just strolling through the forbidden forest as a stress-relieving walk, his white blonde hair easy to spot through the trees. He stopped and looked down at my towel and wand discarded near the trunk of the tree. He then looked at the surroundings, scanning the forest floor for anyone in which this pile of stuff must belong. His gaze passed over the fenced cage without even a flinch. There was no flicker of fear in his grey blue eyes and I envied him. Had he known that there were monsters behind that metal gate or was he naturally fearless?

"Hello?" He called, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice travel farther. I was struck with a moment of uncertainty as I realized I was not ready to answer him. Instead, I slipped my legs over the side of the branch and let my body drop to the moist ground next to him. As I straigtened out I glanced at the well and fence uneasily, before picking up my wand and towel and turning t leave. "Wait." He called from behind me, and I stopped and turned around, making my facial expression remain impassive, but it broke when I saw the fence and the mangled bodies rattling the metal links with desperate force. I even winced and whimpered as one man growled and knawed on the rusting chains. The boy looked at me curiously following my gaze to the Well structure and back. "Is anything wrong?" He asked, clearly amused by my fear.

Was he actually asking me that? How could anything be right, with those flesh-eating monsters several feet away? He chuckled, and scratched the back of his white blonde hair with long slender fingers. In two large strides he was directly in front of the fence.

The man with a dangling finger clawed at the barrier with desperate moping movements. His mouth pressed against the metal links, the skin on his face sagging downward in a sickly ash color. I shuddered and reached out to him, begging the blonde boy to not come any closer. How could he ignore their presence? How could he ignore the zombies that hungered from his flesh a measly foot away?

"What are you doing?" I gasped, taking a step closer to him, reaching to pull him back away from the damned enclosure. With his shirt clasped in my hand, I yanked him back. He stumbled backward and caught himself on a nearby tree. "Don't go near that." I didn't understand why he wasn't afraid. I stared at his expression for a moment, well aware of the fingers barely clawing my back, reaching for me to come closer, any closer. After a moment of sizing up his silent expression, a realization dawned on me. Something I had not even considered.

"You don't see them do you?" I asked quietly, turning my head to look at the flat hunger in their inky stares, a shiver crawled up my spine when I felt one of their broken fingers graze the bare skin of my back.

He was confused now, tilting his head to one side in an act of curiosity. He clearly thought I was crazy. I took a backward step away from this boys harsh, judgmental gaze, forgetting momentarily of the danger that lurked behind me. I froze when I felt their gnarled disjointed fingers grasp me through the metal fence, and their teeth barely grazed the flesh of my neck. Jagged broken fingernails dug into the skin of my arms and goose bumps rose on my flesh.

I tore away from the fence; fingers dug into my flesh, causing stinging slits across my arms I immediately knew were bleeding. Without looking back to see the blonde boys response to my bloody scratches, I left behind the forbidden forest and the dead people who guarded my drawn out secrets.

Time to enjoy the day by the lake.


	6. Invisible Monsters

It seemed obvious I was ruffled when I arrived at the pebbly shore of the enormously large, almost insanely so, glittering lake. Lily noted it as instantaneously as a mother would, but Erin and Erica seemed so thrilled by the idea I had actually shown up they overlooked the fact. I did my best to push away any troubling thoughts, and for once enjoy myself instead of dreading every miniscule detail of grief I held.

It was, after all, a magnificent day. And there was nothing I liked better than the comforting blanket of heat the suns shining rays provided. So, acting like a normal teenage girl for once, I stretched out on a small towel next to Lily, and hoped I could enjoy a day—just one day—without any pain. My only wish.

Down the pebbly lake shore, Remus Lupin appeared to be ambling down the sand beach alone. His hands were full with one monstrous book that seemed, from this distance, about the width of my head. He also had a towel thrown over his shoulder casually and sandy orange swim trunks hung low on his hips.

It wasn't particularly odd that Remus chose to join us at the lake shore, often over the past weeks I'd spent at Hogwarts Remus had preferred to be with us instead of his rambunctious friends. Although, unfortunately, the rest of the so called 'Marauders' usually followed suit, joining us with Remus soon after he arrived. I wondered if it were part of Potter's foolish plan to become 'just friends' with Lily. Lily and I very much liked Remus, and would not turn him away on any occasion. I could picture Potter and Black sitting anxiously in their dorms waiting for Remus to secure a spot next to us so that they would have an excuse to join us. After all, the 'Marauders' always stick together, as Black so graciously stated when we attempted to turn them away the last time.

Remus approached us and plopped his bottom in front of Lily's towel, where she lay on her stomach soaking in the sun. She smiled brightly at him.

"Can I join you guys? Im looking to get some reading done." He showed us his enormous book as proof and Lily laughed as he struggled to hold it with only one hand.

"Of course you can Remus! Honestly, I don't know why you even ask." She shook her head and grinned at him as she took the book from his hands, her fragile arms slamming into the sand with the weight, so she could read the title. Her peach colored eyebrows rose delicately. "Reading up on the Ministry, are we?" She asked, then laughed freely and handed it back to him, ushering him to lay out his towel and sit down.

I raked my fingers through the course sand, watching the grains fall from my hands and spill back to all the rest, disappearing into camouflage.

"Is that all right, Kira?" I looked up, confused. Remus had asked, he was still standing.

"Is what alright?" I asked startled, wondering what in Merlin he meant.

"If I sit down. Is it all right if I sit down?" He seemed concerned about something.

"Of course. Why are you asking me? You're your own person, do what ever the hell you want." Why was he asking me? I didn't control him, it wasn't my place to tell him to leave. Not that I wanted him to. He was quite alright, better than the other ones.

I returned to the sand, examining it as it tumbled from my palm, but I could feel his eyes still on me. I glanced up. His eyes were locked on my arm, the one with fingernail scratches and bite marks. I wondered briefly if I would turn into the monster that grabbed me because of the bite. Maybe the saliva of the Departed was somehow toxic? Would I too turn into a flesh-eating ghost? Would other people see me, or would I be invisible like the others? Maybe those people in the fence didn't exist at all, and I was making the entire thing up. My skin was raw and swollen around the edges of each cut. Remus was still staring at my forearm. I wished he wouldn't, I wished he would stop. Lily was preoccupied with breaking up a fight between the twins, and for the moment we were alone. Even though Lily was close, she wouldn't hear us.

"Did someone do this to you?" He looked appalled, his eyes flitted from the deep scratches to the angry bite marks, where their teeth tore away at my flesh. I wasn't sure how to answer.

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. I don't think the Departed counted as someone. Would they count as something?

His gaze was now scanning my face, looking for answers. He was the only one beside Lily who knew something was strange about me. Why did he have to be so observant?

He dropped to his knees in front of me, carefully taking my arm and examining the damage. It didn't hurt. Nothing hurt. Pain was dull compared to the pain He put me threw.

The Dark Lords laugh echoed coldly in my head. He was always there now, in the back of my mind. I was never alone with my thoughts.

Remus sighed and put my arm back in the sand, looking down on me with a concerned expression. I don't know why he cared.

Several minutes later, when Lily was back to relaxing next to me n her towel, the twins were childishly building sand castles by the shore, and when Remus had found a comfortable spot for reading, our blissful afternoon was shattered by the loud obnoxious voices of James Potter and Sirius Black as they loped down the lake shore to greet us.

Kill me now.

Sirius Black was in the middle of a duel with Snivellus Snape when James came barreling around the corner shouting something completely insane. He lowered his wand and Snape seemed distracted for a moment.

"Padfoot!" James panted, coming to a very ungraceful halt in front of him. He leaned over and rested his arms on his knees to catch his breath.

A confused but still amused expression graced Sirius' handsome features as he waited for his friend to be able to breath again. The crowd that had gathered to watch the curses flying between him and Snape dispersed as Severus slipped away, grateful for Sirius' out-of-breath distraction.

"Jamesy, maybe you need to get in shape." Sirius offered after a minute of waiting, when James was still unable to talk. " This kind of labored breathing should only happen to girls when they're heaving a baby out of their crotch." James shot him a sour look, and straitened up preparing to speak.

"Why don't _you_ try running here from across campus?" James defended, raking a hand through his dark hair and sucking in another gulping breath. Sirius only grinned.

"That's where you're wrong, mate." He said clasping a hand on his friends shoulder in mock sympathy. "I would never run across campus. I'd walk, or crawl…or maybe I could con some desperate girls to carry me…" He mused to himself. James rolled his eyes and brushed Sirius' hand off his shoulder.

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?" He asked balancing his wand on the tip of his index finger, watching James with a playful smirk.

"The point is…" James continued. "That I ran across campus to inform _you _that Lily, Erin and Erica, and Kira are at the lake. I plan on joining them, how about you?" James said, obviously recovering his dignity. A wolfish grin stretched across Sirius' face, his silky brown eyes glinting with mischief.

"Thorny is going to be there?" He asked, already forming in his head an image of her wearing a scandalously skimpy swim suit while prancing around in the water.

James grinned at Sirius' nickname for the newest addition to Hogwarts student body—Kira Thornhill. The nickname suited her rather well, she was a particularly thorny girl. Don't want to mess her.

"She locked you in a closet," James reminded Sirius, noticing his devilish expression, and hoping he would leave her alone. "She also knocked you unconscious, and just last week shot a poisonous snake at you. Yesterday she tossed you across the room like a rag doll without even using a wand. And—" Sirius' eyes darkened, he hated it when James brought up all that stuff.

"She didn't toss me across the room without a wand. _Please_ James, no one our age can use wand less magic, let alone that level of it. I bet some teachers wouldn't be able to do that without a wand." He rolled his eyes. There was no way that girl could have used wand less magic, she didn't even attend a magical school until now. How she managed to know everything was beyond him, but she could most definitely not use wand less magic.

Sirius chose to ignore James' skeptical look, and instead asked if he had sent Remus to get a spot next to them. James nodded and grinned. Over the past weeks, Sirius discovered that if Remus went alone to their table or wherever they were and asked if he could sit they were more likely to not refuse him if they weren't around. Then when Remus was settled in, Sirius and James would casually walk in and take a seat next to Remus, claiming that Remus was their friend too. Those girls were completely clueless to their plan.

"Come on, Prongs. Lets get our suits." Sirius winked at James. "We've got a party to crash." They laughed together as they took two steps at a time up the marble staircase. James seemed to have recovered from his previous activity.

Sirius thought about how he was going to approach Kira, since his latest methods seemed to fail miserably. He hated to admit it. Maybe, he thought hopefully, if he ignored her, she would finally realize how hopelessly in love with him she was. He honestly didn't know why she denied it to herself.

Not that it would be good if she loved him. Actually the more he thought about it the more he realized how awful it would be if she had some ridiculous crush on him. Crazy, loony, obsessive girls were always a pain. In fact he made it a rule that he would not snog any psychos or girls more than one year younger than him. Now the age thing was not hard to go by, because it was obvious when a girl was too young, but the psychos were considerably harder to avoid. Its not like girls go around with CRAZY stamped across their chests. It would be so much easier if they did though.

But it hardly mattered to Sirius if Kira Thornhill was a raging lunatic who would stalk him for the rest of his life. He was convinced it would be worth it. The girl was as hot as they get. It wouldn't be a lie saying she could possibly be the prettiest person alive. With her tantalizing dark silk hair, her stormy navy blue ocean eyes, her legs— magnificent legs—, the airbrushed bronze skin color and her flawless features…

He grinned at the thought, oh he would definitely get her, no matter how stubborn or difficult she was. Sirius always got what he wanted.

The situation was slightly awkward. Lily was amazingly good at ignoring Potter, even when he was starting to creep _me_ out, and I've seen a lot of scary things.

Sirius, who was sprawled across a grey towel next to me, was being unusually quiet, with the exceptions of some snotty comments when he first arrived.

Peter was mysteriously missing. It seemed he never left either of the other marauders sides.

And Remus, for once, was the one who supplied most of the conversation. Which he directed towards me. He seemed to think I was in the mood to talk, where he got this I have no clue.

"So Kira, have you heard that their holding the School Quidditch Cup in Romania this time? James is ecstatic." He said helpfully as if I really cared.

"What's Quidditch?" I asked absently, not really caring that much to look up from the sand sculpture I was making. I heard everyone stop and gasp. I looked up, startled and by their expressions and I knew I said something wrong again. I groaned and dropped my face in my hands. Exhaustion wearing me down. All I want to do is sleep. How long had it been? An entire week since I slept and beyond that I cant remember. Is it possible to just die out of lack of sleep. I hoped not, what a ridiculous way to die.

Before anyone could question me further, I got up from my towel and mumbled something along the lines of 'going to the water…". And trudged miserably down to the shore, dipping my toes into the delicious feeling water.

There were an excessive amount of students at the lake today. Clusters of towels were scattered all over the beach, and girls and boys enjoyed their moments in the sun, happy it was still only Saturday.

I looked out gloomily over the water wondering if I ever knew what—what quidditch was, or if I had just forgotten like everything else. If I was ever under the rule of Lord Voldemort—a theory quickly becoming solid fact—then I am sure that I never had the pleasures of knowing certain things. For instance, Lily had just recently described the concept of Thanks Giving. When it came up in conversation she was appalled I knew nothing of it.

"Don't go out to far!" Lily shouted and I realized my legs were drifting further into the water. She yelled something else too, another warning. I was abrubtly annoyed by how much she cared. It made me angry with myself. I should have never let her become attached me. The closer we became the more painful it would be when I died this spring.

I took a few more steps into the refreshing water, before plunging my body under the cooling waves. They washed over my body and temporarily ceased all my thought, as if, in that moment all of my previous notions were drowned out by the water. Sighing with the feeling of relief from the intense heat I walked back over to our towel cluster, passing several joking first years hurling the coarse lake sand at each other. I dodged expertly and plopped back down on my towel, choosing to ask Lily about Quidditch later.

The sun dried my skin too soon, but after Lily so graciously told me that there was there could possibly be a giant squid in the water, I was reluctant to o in the water again.

Sirius chuckled at my expression as Lily told me some gruesome stories about Hogwarts many legends and monsters and I wished I could show him half the things Ive seen and watch his face. I turned to glare at him, and he quickly stifled his snicker and attempted to control his expression.

Soon Lily turned to yell at Erin for doing something against the rules and James plopped his body in front of my towel. I eyed him suspiciously.

"Hey Kira!" He said happily, too happily. "I was wondering—now I know you don't know anything about Quidditch or anything, but I promise to teach you!—and I was wondering if you would tryout for the team," I raised my eyebrows skeptically, not only did I not know it was a game, but I don't even know how to play it. Why would he ask me? "I need a good chaser—one that can keep up with Sirius." He finished looking expectant and hopeful.

"Why?" I asked incredulously, not believing why the hell he'd want me. He seemed inquisitive for a moment.

"Because youre going to be good, I can just feel it." He said, and then with out further explanation he ran off yelling—"_Lilykins!"_

I turned to glare at Sirius to smash any amusement he found in my last conversation with James. But for once his eyes weren't laughing, and he seemed oddly serious. I followed his eyes and groaned inwardly at the swollen cuts and bites on my left forearm. Why didn't I just take care of the stupid arm?

"What the hell tried to eat your arm?" He asked and the way he put it annoyed me out of my mind. But suddenly I was struck with suck a magnificent idea it nearly knocked me over. I leapt up from my spot, yanking my shorts on and not bothering with my top. I looked down on Sirius Black, picturing his horrified expression while extending my hand out to him. A wicked grin stretched across my face.

"Come on, Ill show you."

--------------------()-----------------

At first, I wasn't positive, but now I realized it was and enormous mistake going with her. I should have been warned by her expression, usually so masked, so cold, but now there was a wicked grin stretched across her face, her dark eyes hinting at malice.

She clearly _was_ a lunatic.

Id just snog her and be done with, hopefully she wouldn't become a crazy psycho bitch like Allison Reese, and Kate Burros and Vivian Smihle and…well, lots of others too.

But as Thorny dragged me across the grassy lawns of Hogwarts towards the Forbidden Forest it became increasingly clear that no amount of kissing was on our agenda this fine afternoon, and I was quite afraid to find out what was. She definitely had a scary look on her face.

Her small hand gripped mine with such force I wondered how she could be so tiny and still be so strong. But I was trailing behind her, and quite liked the view. When we left the lake she hadn't bothered to pull her shirt on and _I_ was enjoying the benefits. Her wet hair was tossed into one of those sexy bun/ pony tail thingies girls always wear, one strand of wet chocolate hair had managed to escape and now hung down in a loose spiral between her small shoulder blades. I ogled at her backside freely seeing as she was busy towing me across campus and obviously too busy to notice, and, therefore, couldn't curse me.

She had quite a knack for evil little curses, some of them I had never even heard of. I had a feeling she knew more evil curses that were not so little, but I was yet to catch her in the act.

The small thin turquoise line of her bikini tie was oddly distracting. The damned little thing seemed to remind me she still had a top _on—_no matter how small—and the fact was frustrating if not completely disappointing. I would have very much liked to see Kira Thornhill entirely topless, but from the looks of things, it was not going to happen today.

We were now halfway across the lawn to the Forbidden Forest—where I assumed she was taking me—and we had to weave our way through picnicking students. Olivia Hore waved frantically at me from several feet away with her friends giggling on either side. All of the seven girls were brandishing brightly colored swimsuits which were much more scanty than Ive ever seen. Perhaps they still used their swimwear from Preschool. What confused me more was the fact that they were wearing swimsuits nowhere _near_ water. Unless Im mistaken, _swim_suits are meant for_ swimming_ in _water._ But oh well, as long as there are girls in Bikinis—Im not complaining.

My eyes drifted back to Kira's exceptionally admirable back. The flawless skin, and the curve of her…

Suddenly she yanked sharply on my hand and I lurched forward. She glared over her shoulder at me angrily, her midnight blue eyes sparkling in the afternoon sun dangerously.

"Will you keep up?" She asked in an irritated tone, turning back to face the forest. "I feel like I'm dragging a two ton whale." She grumbled and I glowered bitterly at the back of her head. She was pretty until she opened her bloody trap. But I was still happy to talk with her, We've never exchanged anything other than insults in the past weeks and suddenly I was craving to hear what talking to her would actually be like. Lily had said she is actually quite nice if you get to know her, I doubted the nice part, but she could possibly be tolerable.

"Well maybe Id be a bit more willing to follow if I didn't feel like I was being dragged off to prison." I was well aware of the fact that everyone one surrounding us was eavesdropping, but I ignored them for now.

"I bet prison would serve you some good." She said matter-of-factly, still not turning to look at me. I jogged up to meet her pace and once we were at the same level she dropped my hand and stopped, turning—finally—to face me, with her arms crossed and expression annoyed or possibly bored. I tried not to get distracted by her extremely sexy, toned stomach.

"Then you clearly don't know what you're talking about. People go mad in Azkaban. I have an uncle in there." She looked astonished, a delicate hand fluttered to her heart.

"_You_ have family?" She asked innocently, sounding suspiciously sarcastic. "I would've thought you were raised by wolves." She mused to herself, then, very suddenly she dropped her act and started to walk again. I had to run to keep up. She was very silent, seemingly intent on ignoring me.

"Can we at least talk while you drag me to my doom? This is a bit boring for my taste." I added hoping to get another snide remark out of her, and forgetting about my plan to _actually_ talk with her.

"I believe we are _talking_." She rolled her eyes, as if I was incredibly stupid.

"If you think flinging insults at each other is the equivalent of a conversation, you clearly missed a lesson on how to be social."

"And what do your conversations suffice to? A little lip to lip contact? Hmm?" I grinned, and winked at her.

"We could try that you know, much more fun." I smiled arrogantly at her, leaning a little closer.

People were still eavesdropping.

To my disappointment she looked completely disgusted with the idea, as if I suggested for her to eat that most rotten thing on earth. Not the reaction I had hoped for. She didn't look flattered, or secretly pleased, she didn't giggle or blush. Nothing. Just absolute, downright, repulsed by the idea. I pursed my lips; clearly this was a lot harder than I thought. And it surprised me by how much the fact made me want to play her game more.

I grinned at her now retreating figure, her beautiful golden skin disappearing into the shadows of the forest.

Sirius Black was always up for a good game of cat and mouse.

He couldn't see them. Not one. While I stared at gruesome flesh eating monsters he stared at nothing. Just a rusted fence, an old crumbling well, and Ivy devouring its way up the metal chains of the barrier. It frustrated me beyond belief that he couldn't feel this horror that was pulsing through my body like black molten lava.

"It must have left." I heard myself say faintly beyond my frightened heart.

"Well? What exactly was here?" He said irritably, glancing at the torn flesh of my arm to where my eyes stayed transfixed. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Nothing." I reluctantly pulled my eyes from their sagging ash faces, but their moans of eternal hunger made my body cringe. Something about their putrid, raw desire for human flesh made a chill creep up my spine. "Go back to the lake, Im going back to the dorms." Black turned his body to me, still in his navy swim trunks, his athletic torso exposed to any searching eyes.

"You left your shirt at the lake." He added helpfully, solidifying his point by dropping his eyes to scan the rest of my body.

"I'm aware." I growled grumpily. Turning to leave. "Tell Lily I'm fine."

"Why would she think otherwise?" The crunch of branches behind me notified my of his approach. I lifted my shoulders than dropped them in a gesture resembling a shrug.

"She worries too much." Go away. Go away. Go away.

"Why? About you?"

"Yes. Now if you don't mind, Ill be leaving." Shifting my body into a quicker pace, I quickly made my way out of the forest. Behind me I heard Black mimicking me childishly. _Oh _how much I wished he'd get lost and die in this forest.

Monday came to fast for anyone's liking, but this Monday was going to be particularly brutal, what with the fact that Quidditch try-outs were to be held this evening. A sport Lily had spent all Saturday night relaying the rules to me in a comprehensible fashion, which consisted of Erin, Erica and Lily constructing a miniature quidditch pitch complete with players alike that ended up being an all night art project. After that eventful night, I was convinced the game was ludicrous and that I would not be trying out for that sport in a hundred years. Of course James spent the entire rest of the weekend pestering me until it was so incredibly unbearable I screamed at him 'shut the bloody hell up' and finally relented. So that may have been the reason behind my considerably bad mood. Either that or the fact that I was forced to sit by Sirius Black during DADA, with us being partners and all. He, on the other hand seemed quite cheerful by this gloomy situation, which deepened my horrible mood even more.

I glared moodily at the black board, a twinge of satisfaction rising when I realized that the other Professor teaching would be taking an extended vacation due to the fact that he was convinced Harcnives were after him. Harcnives are terrible animals that resembled something of a goblin and a vampire bat, but at the moment they seemed quite wonderful. Because of the Professors absence we had a substitute for the rest of the year, Professor Valensic. She was a no nonsense type of discipliner but it was clear she was kind, and actually intended on teaching us useful information.

"Next Wednesday, when you come to class prepared to face a boggart. We will be using the spell you have been practicing over the past weeks. If anyone still needs help, Im willing to teach you after class as long as you are willing to learn.

Now, on to today's subject. Professor Dumbledore has requested a special unit on Torturing Curses. We will be covering that today, and I expect everyone on his or her best behavior. Torturing Curses are an extremely serious matter. They inflict unimaginable pain on their victim. First off we will be naming them, and then perhaps if we have time we will learn to block the brunt of them." Professor Valensic said sternly. Then she reached for a pile of neat parchment cards and proceeded to pass them out to the students with a flick of her wand. "I want everyone to write down the names of the curses you already know so I know where to start."

I took the tiny slip and began writing immediately. After five minutes of waiting patiently she retrieved them from all the students. Most people had two or three; I had filled the entire card and the backside. I now realized, as the paper floated to her waiting hands that I mad a mistake. People don't normally know that many Torturing curses.

Valensic nodded to her self as she read and shuffled through the cards. Then she stopped suddenly, staring down at one in particular with a wide-eyed expression. I cringed and sunk further down in my seat, hoping she wouldn't call attention to me. She looked up, her sharp, eagle eyes scanning until they landed on me.

"Kira Thornhill?" She asked me, and I nodded morosely. She glanced back at the note card, pursing her lips. "You seem to know a great deal about Torturing curses, why don't you teach today's lesson?" She seemed thrilled by the idea, me? Not so much. "Why I don't think I know half of these." She extended one long slender finger and gestured for me to join her. I shuffled from my seat miserably and Sirius whispered a 'good luck, I heard she eats little girls.' From beside me, seeming to enjoy this whole situation too much for his own good.

"Sit here darling," the professor patted a wooden stool encouragingly. "Just write them down on the board" She gestured in a long sweeping movement toward the black board, "And then explain them to the class. I'm quite curious to how you know these but hat is a question for after class. Hmm? Now go on dear." She stepped away and took a stool to the back of the classroom. I gulped, and Black grinned from our seats.

"Alright," I mumbled, picking up the chalk and walking to the board. I wrote _Brokanias _in large clear letters. It was quite different writing with chalk rather than a quill.

"If you're hit by the Brokanias Cruse it feels as if all the bones in your body are being broken one. By. One. From the bones in your fingers being snapped to your skull being crushed. Of course, it only feels like that, your bones don't actually break, but you can hear them crack and break." I added thoughtfully and shivered at a distant memory, remembering the feeling of my bones being snapped one at a time. "I think the entire curse takes about ten minutes to run its course, if I remember correctly. There are a lot of bones." I shivered again.

"If you _remember_ correctly?" One Slytherin asked incredulously. Everyone seemed to bethinking the same thing, a mixture of horror and fascination placed on their faces. I ignored her comment and turned back to the board. I took a deep breath and wrote the next one.

Skinaciam.

"This one feels as if you're being skinned alive." I kept it simple.

The rest of my descriptions continued as such, with only minor interruptions on how I knew all this, which I did not even know completely. It was difficult—telling of curses you know deep down are eve worse than the horrid explanations.

"Venaminous: like everything in your body, including your muscles and your bone and heart, is being dissolved….Watacio: simulates what it would be like to drown….feels like your body is being turned inside out…..on fire….can kill you from excessive pain….Crucio: there's a well known one, feels like….mainly emotional pain, but is more painful than the lot if you ask me….feels like your drying up, if this happens you feel as if youll turn into ash….daggers through the heart…." I explained quietly, correcting myself when I made a reference that made it seem as if I had personal experience, even though I was positive I had. As I went down the long list everyone seemed terribly familiar and I coundnt help asking myself if I wanted to remember my past. I wasn't so sure anymore. Professor Valensic was looking particularly pale, growing as white as ghost as I continued. She hadn't made a comment the entire time. Everyone, from the Slytherins to the Gryffindor wore the same horrified expressions, whether it was from the topic, or the way I reacted, I wasn't sure I cared anymore.

"And the last one I know," I picked up the white chalk again, hopefully for the last time. It seemed to have shrunk considerably, and I wondered how many curses I had written down with it. I felt a sudden stab of guilt for forcing the innocent chalk to write such terrible magic. " Aveda Kadavra." I spoke as I wrote, not facing the class of thirty eight hallow eyes.

"Don't you mean _Avada Kedavra_?And its not a _torturing_ curse it's the _killing_ curse." A know it all Slytherin sneered, clearly pleased she had out witted me.

"No," I said slowly, inhaling a shaky breath and turned back to the bored to timidly write the Killing curse beneath my other scrawled version. "They both kill," I started, feeling like I wanted to run and hide in this moment—disappear forever. Never come back. Clearly Professor Varensic would know something's up when I say this. In this world there may be good wizards who have knowledge of the torturing curses I just named and described, but there is not one that will know this curse. Only the darkest know this, and Its one of their prided secrets. "But The killing curse is painless, a flick of the wand—your dead. But Aveda Kadavra is extremely painful. Imagine all of these, " I gestured to the board full of frightening curses, glad I would be able to slink back to my seat and hide in a few minutes. "Put in one painful second before you die. When investigating deaths the Ministry often mistakes one for the other. May I sit down now?" I asked the Professor anxiously, finishing quickly and already darting off the stool and away from the black board.

Professor Valensic's hawk like eyes and hooked crooked nose, her long claw like fingers and unattractive bushy eyebrows were in a state of frozen shock that thawed when I seemed t disappear into my seat. Her expression slowly changed from stunned to horrified to confused and back again. Valensic gulped largely, looking like she might want to run as well. Definitely not what she singed up for when she approached this job. I hung my head guiltily, feeling more out of place than usual. Why did I always have to do something wrong? Ruin everything? I wanted to dissolve, to die a thousand deaths, melt into the floor—anything to escape thirty-two pairs of eyes that watched me with similar expressions to Professor Valensic. Especially a pair of silky chocolate eyes that peered at me with judgment and disgust from beside me.

I would have given anything to escape, in that moment, if Voldemort had offered me one of his cryptic invitations I would have gladly accepted. This was a moment he would have won, a moment of weakness on my part.

Self loathing filled me as Porofessor Valensic dismissed the class. I didn't move, knowing she would want to speak to me, interogait me, maybe even use one of the curses on the smoky black board to get that information. That's how people get what they want, right? Pain? Pain always seems to be the answer.

She approached me with a different expression than I expected. Her sharp, golden eyes surprisingly soft and worried. For my sake, or her own? That hardly seemed to need an answer. Her own—of course. Who would care about me? I dropped my eyes to the ingrained wood of the worn desks, feeling more small and vulnerable than ever. I realized how much I wanted her to care about me, how much more weak I felt when I wanted someone to care, instead of expecting the worst. More room to be hurt. To be rejected.

So I did the thing Im best at. I withdrew, my face composed of a mask of stone, burying my pain, my misery, my guilt and self-loathing beneath a layer of thin protection.

But valuable protection nonetheless.

Her words were lost to my ears, I didn't bother listening to her urgently coaxing me to tell—to tell where I learned these, to tell her who did this, what happened to me. Her sympathetic comments wasted on me, her false concern disregarded.

I hadn't said a word when she asked me to go to Dumbledore's office, handing me my note card. Scrawled on the small parchment square was the list of curses.

"I feel you need to inform him of these, I'm sure the information you have provided will be considered useful." She nodded to herself, still looking troubled and confused. "Maybe you'll be more inclined to explain to him."

I left without a backward glance, not planning on going to Dumbledore's office quite yet. I had missed most of my last class, and didn't bother to try and make the rest, even if it was one of my favorites.

While walking dismally through the empty corridors, I didn't pause to answer the portraits inquisitive stares with glares or threats and I usually did. I actually didn't register anything until I had the sensation of being drenched in a bucket of ice-cold water. I turned scanning for the culprit half-heartedly. I didn't feel like dishing out punishment at this moment. But as I glanced I realized it was only Nearly Headless Nick, who was talking happily with a painting of an odd sort of round woman on a field of daisies that looked unpleasantly like crying yellow baby faces.

He smiled brilliantly at me, turning after feeling my gaze. He dismissed the round woman and swooped silently towards me.

"Why hello my dear," He smiled cordially, giving a small swift bow. It was strange talking to a ghost. I nodded and he floated silently past me into a room labeled the trophy room. I sighed and kept walking to the dorms.

I rounded the last corner, when suddenly I collided with something considerably hard and tall. I bounced backwards, stumbling until I hit the opposite wall, rattling a nearby painting that shot me a disapproving look.

"Ugh," I groaned throwing a small hand to the back of my head where it had smacked against the wall with a painful thud. My bag slipped off my shoulder, sliding to the floor with a muted clump. A hoarse chuckle reached my ears from several troll steps away. I opened my eyes expecting a talking bookshelf by how hard the body was when I so stupidly ran into it, but a tall black haired boy stood leaning against the wall casually, someone I came to know as Sirius Black. He smirked when my eyes narrowed dangerously in his direction, my head storming with the rage of a new battering headache.

"I know it's hard for you to keep your hands off of me…" He started, a large wolfish grin stretching across his handsome aristocratic features, his large brown eyes twinkling roguishly as he spoke. "But please, Thorny, no touching." He brushed a hand arrogantly on his white school shirt as if to brush off any filth I had somehow transferred when we ungracefully smacked into each other.

I gritted my teeth, my body filling suddenly with hot, pulsing anger. In a second, I imagined ten different ways in witch I would kill him, but I reigned those loose thoughts quickly when I heard a certain voice egging on my anger, fanning the flames dangerously, trying to get me to act on the menacing images that flashed behind my eyelids. I collected myself instantly, my body cooling to a bearable temperature.

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you." I smiled threateningly and he raised one dark eyebrow in amusement. "Or I might just have to use one of those curses on you…" I trailed off, pretending to actually contemplate the deed, which minutes ago I had with one definite end. I expected him to run, anyone would. Everyone was already scarred witless of me, maybe in result of the horrid rumors that were hovering ominously over all their thoughts. Anyone else would have scurried off like scared rabbit. I am pleased to admit I saw a flicker of fear in his brown eyes before he hooded the emotion with curiosity and I had the uneasy feeling he was used to these sorts of threats.

"You know how to perform them?" He asked skeptically, staying a safe distance away in case I decided to toss one torturing curse his way just for the heck of it. I saw his eyes measure the length between us in one fleeting glance. I rolled my stormy blue eyes in exasperation.

"I know every one of those curses _inside and out_. I know their proper _names_, I know how to _perform_ them, I know the exact _movement_ of the wand, I know how they _feel_, I know the exact number of _people_ who have done them, I know what the victims _expressions_ will look like for each individual curse…everything. They should be illegal, but then again. Hardly anyone knows about them." I had the satisfaction of watching his face twist into fear again, but it wasn't what I expected. Not fear of me, fear for me. He looked at me with a sympathetic gaze that seemed to burn through my skin; he appeared to be genuinely sad about this.

Not what I wanted from him. Without looking back I passed him on my way to the portrait hole.

"See you tonight at try-outs!" He called after me smugly, seemingly have recovered his regular arrogant self.

I groaned out loud, and heard his superior chuckle follow me until I was out of ear shot.

I forgot, Quidditch practice tonight.

Damn.

I wasn't quite rid of Black for the day.

AN/ Rate and Review!


	7. Of Attacks and Tryouts

The weather seemed to be getting unsettlingly worse as the day wore on, and now, although it wasn't raining yet, there was the thick tension of a monstrous impending storm. Storms, rain and anything wet and cold, were something I deeply despised, avoiding at all costs.

Hoping I could somehow weasel out of attending those stupid Quidditch try-outs I traipsed down the spiral staircase of the girls dorms—where I had been hiding for the last hour—and dropped dramatically onto the couch next to Lily who was reading—of course. The twins were sprawled out happily on the floor before the dancing fireplace, playing some strange hangman game with moving pictures. They laughed together as their stick figure drawing's face turned purple as he struggled with the rope bound around my neck. I turned back to Lily, sighing heavily.

"It's a shame that try-outs will be canceled with the storm, I was really looking forward to them…" I trailed off, shaking my head in an act of misery. Lily's brow furrowed and she seemed confused for a moment.

"Oh no, Kira," She shook her head; smiling sweetly at me as if she was pleased she was the one delivering this wonderful news. "Quidditch is never canceled." She was excited, I was dying. "Rain or shine. You can still go." She smiled again, and my face drooped, a frown crossing my mouth and turning the corners of my lips downward significantly. What a wonderful sport I chose. Exactly the conditions I hate. "Actually, you should get ready," Lily started again, checking her pocket watch with a worried look. "They start soon."

With a mournful grimace I heaved myself off the sitting chair of the common room and trooped grimly off to our room. A sort of grey cloud hung over my head, similar to the one that hung over the open sky out side.

Ten minutes later I dragged my unwilling body back down the stairs, resigned to spending hours in the cold air and rain with people I usually avoided at all costs.

The moment I stepped into the cozy Gryffindor common room an overly excited James Potter bombarded me. He practically flung his arms around me in his joy, which I grudgingly removed from around my shoulders. He didn't even seem to notice.

"Your still coming, right, Kira?" His eyes were wide and sparkling with joy. Did I have a choice?

"Am I allowed not to?" I asked miserably, traipsing from the room and out through the portrait hole. Potter trailed happily beside me, and this annoyed me greatly.

"But _Thornhill_, it's going to be fun!" He whined, skipping beside me as we walked to the Quidditch pitch. "Don't you see? It's going to be you and Padfoot as chasers…It doesn't really matter who other chaser is. Trinity Carp for keeper, Kasen Frost and Shane Destin our excellent beaters….yes, yes, they will definitely make the team this year again…" He trailed off mumbling to his self and tapping his fingers on his lips thought the new team members over.

I sighed again and shook my head sadly, regretting my promise to try out greatly. I wished I had just hexed the stupid Potter to shut him up.

Suddenly Potter snapped out of his muttering looking suddenly panicked.

"You've flown on a broom before, haven't you?" His eyes widened with worry. I thought for a moment, trying desperately to recall any memories beyond the ones Voldemort had fed me through my dreams.

"I believe so," I mumbled, lost in the murky depths of my foggy memory. He considered me silently for a moment, his green eyes full of confusion he didn't seem to seek answers for.

There were a lot of people trying out for the Quidditch team this year. Girls and boys huddled together in the howling wind in one cluster, waiting for their turn to show their skills. James seemed delighted by how many people showed up, and as Gryffindor's team captain he assessed everyone as they skidded through the air attempting to gain his favor for various positions.

Sirius Black was in the midst of a several clinging whores, who were probably only trying out so they could possibly talk to him. And to top that off there was an entire stand dedicated to Black's screaming fans. Ugh, these girls were a disgrace to the female gender. They were embarrassing us all.

Finally James called the chasers over, after he dismissed the keepers, and I flitted over, happy to finally be away from all the others. Black sauntered up and did one of those handshake/hug/chest bumps guys always do with Potter, and he shot a smirk and a casual wink my way. I growled internally, the sound would be lost over the hissing wind anyway. Several others ambled over, clutching their coats tighter around their arm, grinning shyly or listening earnestly to James Potter speak. After a moment he finally shut up and called the first person up.

"Now, remember, If you made the team last year it doesn't necessarily mean you'll make the team this year." He reminded us, before waving on Cassie Finnegan to demonstrate her skills. She mounted her broom with a determined expression, her mousy brown hair whipping wildly around her pinched face.

I watched absently as person after person preformed the necessary task. All they did was try and score on the keeper who guarded the three golden hoops. This should be a piece of cake.

When my turn arrived James reluctantly lent me his broom, looking like he saying goodbye to his mother as he did so. I rolled my eyes at him, and heard Sirius snigger from behind me and I shot him an icy glare.

"I'd like to see this. Never been on a broom…Oh man, this is gunna be great." He muttered into James ear, more loudly than he needed to. I ground my teeth together again, and ignored him.

From the moment I mounted James' prized broom it was obvious that whatever the reason I had learned to fly, it was not for the purpose of some silly game. It became apparent almost immediately I was trained for a darker purpose, one filled with death and anguish, hatred and pain. For a hovering frozen second a distant memory flashed across my mind like a stray black wolf in the middle of an enormous snowy field, and wherever it went it brought devastating wreckage with it.

It was just a moment. A flash. There were three, cloaked in black, their red eyes shining like hot, hatred infused coals in the inky darkness as they shot silent as the deaths they were sure to bring through the stiff, tension filled air. It was as if the world they soared so stealthily through was anticipating the ruin and devastation that would come, as if no one dared move while these dark followers sliced through the atmosphere like the glinting tip of a sharp knife.

And then there was nothing, and James gave the signal for me start, throwing the quaffel up and wishing me good luck with a huge whoop of encouragement.

The Great Hall was bubbling with excitement the next mourning. Every house was anticipating the arrivals of the team Quidditch Captains and their results from try-outs last night, and many students couldn't calm their nerves about whether or not they made it. It seemed silly to me, but then again, I had better things to occupy my mind. On second thought, 'better' would be a poor choice of word, more_ important_ would probably suit this particular situation more efficiently. But that's beside the point.

The second reason for everyones excitement being this weekends upcoming Hogsmead trip, and as I had no clue what it was Erin and Erica of course were sympathetic enough to explain in full detail, which considering, took about and hour. It was an uneventful and tedious hour, but Hogsmead sounded fun enough. I approved.

Just then, James and his gang burst through the Great Hall doors, looking their usual fashionably late and cheerful selves. Black was looking even happier, with his hair disheveled and his tie slightly askew; Erin even exasperatedly pointed out the smudged lipstick on his grinning idiotic self.

The Gryffindor table burst into cheers of excited anticipation as the four famed Marauders sauntered over to the table, looking thoroughly flattered. Potter took his momentary celebrity moment to slip next to Lily with her cries of protest being over ridden by happy applause, until finally she settled for crossing her arms across her chest and ignoring him—the best remedy for an over ego. I glowered unhappily across the table as Black lept to steal the spot opposite of me, and wished he would trip over his abnormally large head. Somehow…I'm not sure how anyone could trip over their own head, but if anyone could pull it off it would be Black.

He grinned wolfishly across from me, and I frowned back. Potter took the chance—as the clapping and howling subsided—to announce the new players for the Gryffindor Team. Other tables in the Great Hall were listening to the same results from their own team captains, and the Hall was silent except for the occasional whoop for a close friend when their names were called.

"Okay, first off I want to thank everybody who made an effort.—On to the new players! Our Keeper this year will be Lars Vilconille." Applause erupted from where a blushing Lars Vilconille was sitting, her long dishwater colored hair pulled back into a spunky pony tail. "Our Beaters will be Victoy and Gilroy Cage—" Cheers erupted from their end of the table and the chubby brothers stood up and pumped fists in the air in an act of victory. After them, I stopped listening; focusing on reading a book I checked out from the Library entitled _Common Curses_. I read it less for the content and more for comparison—how many of these did I already know?—that sort of thing.

Suddenly loud echoing cheers surrounded me and I looked up scathingly, locating Black with his trademark smirk.

"You made the team!" Lily shrieked happily. It had never occurred to me that I would actually make it. I groaned inwardly at the thought. I only expected to try-out, not spend the entire winter flying with Black and Potter in lighting storms. Life has taken yet another unexpected turn for the worst.

Ten minutes later, when the sanity of the Great Hall had been restored, Professor McGonagall swept down the long amber wood Gryffindor table and handed me what I believe to be a permission slip. I looked up at the stern looking woman questioningly.

"A permission form to be signed by your parent or guardian for next weeks Hogsmead trip." She added firmly. I glanced down at the parchment and got to my feet, slipping past her, Lily and my friends—along with the unwelcome marauders—and walked toward the Professor table towards Dumbledore. I silently let the parchment flutter into his hands, and just as silently, with a thin smile and warm glance he signed the parchment and handed it back to me.

"For you, my dear. Have a nice trip." He smiled, but now I noticed the smile did not reach the watery blue eyes he peered at me with over his half moon spectacles. Ever since I told him everything last night, in his office, he seemed careful with me, concerned. I didn't like his sympathy. I was looking for disgust when I told him, I wanted to give him a reason to hate me when I informed that Voldemort speaks to me, that he tries to control me, that I—possibly—followed his menacing ways. But Dumbledore seemed convinced I was just a good person stuck in a bad position, I wasn't so fooled myself.

Last night, I had entered his office trying to convince him it wasn't safe for me to be here—to be a danger to other students. It had gone horribly wrong. He had informed the staff of my…problems and now all the teachers watched me wearily, like I was an infectious insect out to spread disease.

"_Professor Dumbledore, you don't understand. Its not safe for me to be here. I—"_

_He silenced me with one wave of his leathery hand. From behind his wooden desk, the dim light of his personal study shimmered like a reflecting spell in his dull blue eyes. I was still covered in mud from Quidditch try-outs, and the dark wet dirt dripped to the floor from my black robes. Outside thunder flashed and rain pelted against the roof above like bullets. _

_"I know your frightened, Kira, but this is the safest place for you right now. I will—" Safest place for me? What was he talking about?_

_"No. Not the safest place for _me_. I could care less about my safety. Im talking about the others, the students, they shouldn't be in danger just because of me." _

_"Like I said, this is the safest place from Voldemort at this point. I've been told about his obsession with you, and the castles defenses are…" I stared at him as he spoke, feeling small and helpless. _

_"Sir, Im not talking about Voldemort, Im talking about myself. _I'm _dangerous, and Im already in the castle." He stared at me, his curious face puckered with confusion. _

"_He talks to me, you know." I rushed on, feeling the need to someone else, in hopes that he has a solution. "You have no idea what its like. Not just talking. He tries—he tries to control me, professor." I choked up, emotion spilling into my usually hallow voice. "If I let my guard down for a moment…" ………_

I nodded solemnly in his direction, turning away from his watery eyes, and pale silver beard.

The table was bursting with life when I returned; Lily smiled at me as I returned, looking unusually happy for sitting next to James Potter. But then again, they were going to get married. I grinned to myself, glancing at the two before grabbing my bag and exciting the Great Hall intent on visiting my The Departed Well to deliver the latest vision in the bucket.

Lily had been looking forward to the Halloween feast all month, and voiced her anguish that Halloween was on the last day of the month frequently. '_So not fair_.' From my distant memories of Halloween, the holiday was not something to celebrate, but then again, I didn't have any memories, just a cold, nervous feeling of recollection for the day.

All month it had been raining, growing steadily colder as the weeks passed, which put me in a fowl mood. Especially since Quidditch practice had started and I was forced to fly in the rain with Potter and Black three times a week. James was constantly glowing with pride and boasting that he had the best Chasers on his team; a fact he did not conceal from the other teams, and even let them sit in on practices to watch us. Sirius Black and I ironically worked eerily well together as chasers. Ironically, because it was quite the opposite outside of practices, and we were frequently placed in the hospital wing for countless curses shot at each other.

On another dismal note, the marauders had been taking advantage of Lily's mellow mood, and acceptance of the four boys as _friends_ and only friends, which meant our groups—Lily, me, and the twins; Remus, Potter, Black, and Pettigrew—had officially merged. Sigh… And although I tried to ignore the retards that now sat with us, it was always hard with Potter's boasting, Black's flirting, Lupin's logic, Pettigrew's blushing, and their combined antics. But I would deal, because I had to.

James, as captain of the Gryffindor team, had taken a sort of protectiveness over me in a way that annoyed me greatly. He was constantly hovering over me when he wasn't busy breathing on Lily. So it was at breakfast, on Halloween day that James realized I wasn't eating.

I was sitting across from Lily, chatting casually with her about the up coming Hogsmead trip (it would be my second time visiting the village) when Potter uncharacteristically looked up from shoveling eggs in his mouth to point out the painfully obvious fact that there was no food on my plate.

Lily stopped talking, and her face immediately twisted with a sort of worried pain, and I grimaced. This isn't right. She shouldn't hurt because of me. If I wasn't so selfish, I break off from everyone now; make them hate me, so they wouldn't suffer any loss when I died.

_When I died…_

Had I really accepted the fact that I wouldn't live to see another year at Hogwarts? I closed off that thought, it seemed to get harder and harder to deal with the fact as time went on, instead of getting easier. That was a bad sign; It meant I was getting attached to the life I lived.

"Please eat Kira," Lily whispered, in a vain effort to keep the rest of the table out of the conversation. "Its been a month since Ive seen you eat any food." Her sweet face was puckered with grief, her hair shinning red-gold in the Morning sun. James was suddenly alert, looking as panicked as a king who had his castle walls breached by an enemy.

"A _month_!" He was aghast; his eyes were wide as he looked at me, his face peeled into an expression of utter horror. "She hasn't eaten in a month?" Now Potter turned to Lily, waiting for her to tell him that she was joking. Lily didn't meet his eyes, she stared dejectedly at me. Her pain at the neglect for myself was unnecessary. I wanted to scream at her for caring, for being stupid enough to get involved with _me._ The queen of murdering problems. She knew all my secrets, why didn't she run like any other self assured person would have done?

"Or slept." Lily added morosely, grimacing down at her plate of now cold food. She pushed some fruit around with her the silver fork she held in her soft hand. James nearly passed out. _One of his best Quidditch players hadn't eaten or slept in a month! That could cost him the next game! All players needed to maintain strength and eat healthy!_

"She hasn't eaten or slept in a _month_!" He grasped onto the table holding himself upright. From beside him a devily handsome dark haired boy cracked a crooked smile.

"Didn't know our Thorny was the type to starve herself to be skinny." He mocked, grinning menacingly from across the table. Potter was now, examining me silently, taking in the signs he hadn't noticed before. No doubt he noticed the dark bruise like patches under my eyes, the sharp bones now projecting out of my body from lack of food. My joints were now sharper, the bones near the surface of my flesh. Both of my shoulders had lost their round shape and were now pointed and sharp. And to my amazement and distress I was still starlessly beautiful. Only edgier, and more severe than that of a regular pretty face.

I shot Black an icy glare before standing, Erin and Erica squawked at my sudden movement, startled. I laughed at them, before patting their shoulders reassuring gesture.

I caught Lily's eye, motioning with my head towards the door.

"Hogsmead?" I asked eagerly, wanting to escape everyone's eyes. Lily, who seemed to have realized what she had revealed, nodded her head solemnly and trooped down the hall.

We walked down to the very wet village with a rain shield protecting us from the marble sized drops of water. I promised Lily I would teach her that spell too. Even though I honestly didn't know where I learned any of my spells. They just came to mind, sometimes they would activate without any words escaping my mouth—without my wand.

Lily sighed contently from beside me, and I glanced at her sideways. We were about the same height, maybe I was a little taller, but her wild auburn hair made up for it.

"Im sorry about this mourning, Kear. I just—" She sighed unhappily, faltering in her words—something Lily Evans never did. "I'm just worried about you." She looked up at me then, her eyes wide blue pools of emotion.

"Lily, I want you to listen to me." I stopped and we both halted. She bit her lip worriedly, my tone alarmed her. "Don't worry about me, ok? It will do you no good." I turned to start walking again, but she stayed put, looking angry.

"You're the only person who says '_Don't worry about me'_, in a '_its no use, im doomed_' sort of way. Kira, your my best friend. Of course I'm going to worry about you. I know what going on, you told me yourself. You're in over your head, I want to help. Your _need _my help." Her face was committed to her cause, but I was more determined than her.

"No." I growled. "Lily, you don't _understand_. Its no use, I already _know_ that. You need to stay out of everything until I'm gone—" I slipped, letting too much flow out of my mouth with the mounting emotion pressuring me. Her face twisted into a horrified suspicion.

"Gone?" She wailed, panic stirring her eyes with tears. "You saw something didn't you?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, tears dripping down her face freely now, catching on her trembling chin. "Where are you going?" She screamed, Lily's voice cracked, and her breathing hitched, she gripped the edge of the bridge we had stopped on for support. ""Where are you going?" She cried again. Backing away from me, her lips trembled as a sob waked through her body.

"Lily," I pleaded, stepping forward and enveloping my friend in a hug, fighting the sting of tears of my own. "Its going to be alright." I murmured into her hair as she sobbed.

"Not dead, not dead?" She begged, hiccupping, and gasping for air. "You cant die, Kira." Lily wailed.

"Lily!" I finally shouted, breaking her out of her mumbling. "Im alive now, ok? Im here. Relax." She sniffled. Whipping her eyes and glancing around to see if anyone had witnessed her breakdown. Under the bridge appeared Potter and Black slinking out from the wet stone overhead. They glanced back fearfully at us. Catching our eyes they broke into a run and didn't stop until they were out of sight.

"They heard us." Lily croaked weakly, looking on the verge of tears again. I pulled her into another hug.

"It's ok. Lets go to Hogsmead, Im looking forward to Honeydukes." I tried to smile down at her. "Its Halloween, remember? Lets enjoy ourselves!" She nodded feebly, looking as numb as I always felt.

Lily was worrying me with her sulking; sometimes I would catch her crying, even though I tried my best to cheer her up. Im not the cheerful type if you haven't noticed.

So at one point I cast a cheering charm on her, and a temporary memory block. Finally she seemed to return to herself again—happy it was Halloween.

We stayed in Hogsmead for most of the afternoon, and then headed back to the castle. Sirius Black and James Potter avoided us the rest of the day even at dinner, they didn't sit in our usual spot.

Lily, however, oblivious to their attempts to avoid us at dinner, lead us to sit next to them in the spot they were at. She had grown so used to sitting with them I guess she didn't think twice.

"…Lily was crying the whole time. Those were Thorny's exact words—" James cut off as we approached and the four Marauders looked guiltily at their plates. Erin and Eirca slithered into two seats beside Remus and Black, while Lily and I slipped next to James and Remus.

"Hey Guys!" Lily exclaimed happily, unmindful to their errant silence. "How was your Halloweens so far?" She asked, gasping happily when the feast appeared before us on glittering platters. She reached for golden brown drumstick and plopped it down on her plate, licking her fingers as she did so.

The boys' murmured vague responses, looking worriedly at Lily and I. I rolled my eyes, and sighed inwardly. This was going to be along night.

The feast passed rather quickly, to my surprise and relief. Dumbledore had summoned some magical acrobatics that did very impressive performances. The Great Hall was dressed up fantastically and everything kept us busily preoccupied.

The fireplace flickered absently, the orange flames licking the grate that held the hot coals affectionately. Lily was gazing at the flames with a dead expression in her eyes, and I watched her for a moment with concern. The charms I had settled upon her were now wearing off, slowly though, so the full impact of my words wouldn't hit her at once. Everyone else went to bed, exhausted from the amount of food eaten at the feast. I hadn't eaten much, but more than I had since I started at Hogwarts in September. James was breathing down my shoulder all night, urging me to eat. I felt I owed Lily, so I pretended to enjoy the food, even though it hit the bottom of my stomach uncomfortably, making the hallow fill unhappily—as my stomach had been so used to nothing.

"Do you know when you're going to die, Kira?" Lily asked tonelessly, still staring at the flames. Slowly she turned to me, her eyes empty and sad. I sighed and got up, pushing the book I had been reading to floor.

"Lets go to bed, Lily." I said tiredly, trudging over to the staircase, before I stopped and waited for her.

"You do know, don't you?" She asked quietly, from the sitting chair. I nodded, waiting. Finally she got up and trudged up the stairs. I stared after her a moment before returning to the red couch to grab my book. As I straightened up, I met a pair of silky chocolate eyes watching me from the opposite spiral staircase.

Sirius Black stared back, his dark hair tossed with casual elegance over his eyes as he leaned leisurely against the back wall.

"When?" Was all he asked. I knew exactly what he wanted to know; it wasn't exactly a secret that I was a seer at Hogwarts. He was asking me when I would die. I knew exactly when, the date, the time, the amount of pain I would suffer. But I acted confused anyway.

"When, what?" I blew the hair out of my eyes and shifted the heavy book into my right hand, before I glanced back at him. He pushed off from the wall with ease. Crossing the room until he stood directly in front of me. His eyes were hard, unreadable.

"You know what." He growled, taking an intimidating step forward. I couldn't understand why he wanted to know so badly.

"Then say it." I snarled. "Ask the question." He hesitated, glowering uncertainly at me.

"Tell me—tell me…when you're going to…die." His voice was softer now, and some thing flashed beyond the depths of his coffee-colored eyes. Desperation? Anguish?

I picked up a quill from the table in the corner that had been forgotten. There was a bottle of ink also abandoned on the table; I dipped the feathered quill in the black liquid. Black kept his expression guarded and unreadable as I walked back towards him. The fire flashed and cracked, the firelight dancing off his tanned skin.

Extending my hand I grabbed his wrist tightly, keeping my eyes safely diverted from him. With only a seconds hesitation I pressed the quill to his forearm and wrote what he asked. It was too painful to say aloud. What would happen to Lily when I was gone?

_May 3__rd __, 1997, 7:15pm_

The ink soaked into his skin, and before he had the breath to speak I left the common room and swept up the spiral staircase for a night of fighting my lethal nightmares.

-----------------()-------------

"Pleaseeee come with me?" Lily begged once again. The Hogwarts Express platform shook as the shinning red train whistled, signaling its impatience.

I shook my head sympathetically, smiling at her hopeless expression.

"No, for the last time—I don't want to intrude on your family. Go on, have fun. Ill be here when you get back." Her face fell, crumpled under the weight of sadness.

"Will you?" She choked weakly, her red hair shinning golden in the afternoon sun.

"'Course. Told you I would. Now get on that train." She sighed morosely and heaved her trunk over to the train. Silently, I tossed a weight charm on her bag and it instantly became lighter. She grinned sheepishly at me.

"Bye Kira!" She waved. "You're spending Christmas with us though! I wont let you weasel out of it!" She grinned and dashed upon the red train, reappearing again by an open window. I laughed.

"Sure," I agreed easily, shrugging. "Have a good Thanksgiving! See you in a week." I waved as the train rattled away, building speed as it tromped down the track and away from view. The only thing left: a swirl of smoke and the reverberating rattle of the large engine.

---

Personally, Thanksgiving sounded like a lousy excuse for a holiday, but since we got five days off…I wasn't complaining. The next confusion of the day was what Lily had said on the train as it pulled away: '_Your spending Christmas with us…'_

It was obvious…_Christmas_ was a holiday of some sort—im not that thick—but what the bloody hell was _Christmas_? Not another celebration of giving and taking: of family and important things in our lives—like Thanksgiving—, I hope.

_Honestly_, who made up that? Some lousy git, no doubt. Family…phfft.

It never bothered me like it might some that my family was nonexistent. Well, I suppose they weren't exactly nonexistent…just to me. But I wasn't consumed with the need to know or find out. I thought it best to leave all that unnecessary drama out in the cold. I had bigger problems.

Not Christmas.

Or Family.

Or the fact that Black was also staying for the Holiday break.

No. The simple fact was—right now—I needed to focus on the surfacing vision.

It was just after the first meal of the first day on vacation. I was still in the Great Hall—even though I wasn't eating—finishing an essay that was assigned in DADA, when the familiar feeling washed over my body.

I felt myself go rigid, freezing in place as the tremors became stronger and stronger until I could no longer see the world around me, just the watery scene in my head.

The scene rippled into a very misty village. I recognized a large row of shops that went on forever as Diagon Alley. Rain was pelting the rooftops and streets in sheets of gloomy water. It was nighttime, so dark that nothing could be seen except under the light of the floating lamps that followed people as they walked past.

I shivered not only from the chill but from the tension. Something bad was going to happen.

My mark burned—like it usually did when something awful and dark was lurking—and I rubbed the small circular scar-like symbol on my wrist absently. I tried in vain to soothe the sensation.

My body was being pulled in the direction of a large clock tower, this happened in all of my visions. There was an unseen force that pulled me into the thick of whatever was going on so I would witness the scene. It was this same strange need to move that made me stop suddenly.

I stayed still, jumping only when the clock tower chimed; striking 9 o'clock. In a moment the silence of the wet streets was breached by ear crushing explosions. I turned toward the noise only to see every store on the cobbled streets erupt with green flames. In front of all the tiny wooden shops were dark cloaked figures—white bone masks. They faced the shops and when frantic and frightened witches and wizards came pouring out of the exploding stores the dark followers raised their wands and said the unforgivable, unknown curse. Everyone who set foot outside died with a flash of wands and an ocean of pain. They dropped to the rain soaked stones of Diagon Alley.

This was always the worst part—the pain. I could feel every emotion every single person was feeling—frightened, traumatized, petrified, betrayed, lost, urgent, pained…dead. I could feel them dying in my fingertips, the pain in my heart, fear in my mind. My body suffocated under the weight of the seizing emotions. Their screams echoed through my body, vibrated through my ivory bones. Their agony soaked my skin like acid; it burned away my flesh.

One man was being tortured with the Cruciatus curse. I could feel him withering in my body—feel the need to find his children despite his fierce pain.

Another woman had dark blood oozing form her forehead, her head pounded like the hooves of a thousand horses. I could feel her last thoughts, the last desperate hope that her husband had survived. I could feel my skull cracking, like splitting a coconut into two, and I could feel the trickle of blood that ran down my face and blurred my vision with ruby liquid. Her scream made my teeth rattle, the rain and cold hardly mattered now.

A child wailed as a heroic wizard, trying to save the unknown child, swept her up but he collapsed in a sudden fit of fire as it blazed across his skin, causing his flesh to sizzle and bubble as he screamed in agony. The child forgotten—dropped to the cobblestone streets. Invisible fire blazed across my skin as well, the sensation almost like being dropped into a volcanic pit of white-hot lava.

There was no way to describe the thick paralyzing fear and chaos of the scrambling people as they ran and faught for their lives.

So much precious souls lost…so much pain and fear in their last dying moments, because everyone must breath until their dying breath.

My body was collapsing, I expected to feel the wet pools on the street, but instead found the unexpected comfort of strong warm arms as I tumbled backwards.

A child's blood curdling scream reverberated through my throat, and I wondered distantly why the sound seemed so close until I realized that small child was not the only one screaming. As soon as I realized I was making that horrid noise I caught it in my throat, even though the pain was too much to bear. The pain of a thousand dying people should not be put on the shoulders of one.

The noise was dulling, the pain easing, the dizzying fear lifting…until I was back again. The voices around me were muffled, my hearing hadn't returned. The figures were sliver and blotchy—they gave me a headache.

So I lay still, in the arms of an unknown, in the presence of strangers for the moment.

It took several minutes for me to be able to function again. Whoever was around me kept urging someone to move me—most likely to the hospital wing?

Pain from my last experience roared through my body whenever anyone touched me, only the person holding me seemed to break that barrier. They stopped trying after a moment, and I lay still—in the arms of a warm and comforting body—straining to hear the voices.

Finally I was able to hear again, my eyesight was still gone though.

"…but Professor Dumbledore! She needs to be moved into the hospital wing! What has happened? An attack? By You-Know-Who? Oh dear, oh dear…" The woman fretted. Madam Pomfrey I guessed.

"Poppy, I can assure you she will be fine. Look! The color has already come back to her face. As for an attack…I don't believe so. Voldemort—" Audible gasps. (Don't say his name!) "—Would not attack in such a great matter. I believe it was just a vision, and an awful one at that. Seers are incredibly fortunate for others that they may save, but the task is quite punishable. I do not know one Seer who would not pass up the responsibility if they could. They can feel every emotion anybody in that particular vision is feeling, imagine the horrors of that Poppy, and I m sure you will be able to understand."

"So she _is_ a Seer." A males voice stated, I could feel the vibrations from his chest. This must be the wizard holding me…

"Why, yes." Dumbledore sounded curious.

"And these…at- attacks?"

"That is none of your business, Black!" McGonagall cut in sharply. If I were in my right mind I would have cried out at the mention of Black, or would have screamed at the fact that it seemed he was the persona holding me. But I was not. And therefore I barely took in any information being passed between the huddle around me.

"Leave me alone." I groaned, rolling away from their voices and the warm arms around me. I staggered to my feet, blinking furiously and wincing at the dull roar of pain that undulated through my body in waves of fiery heat.

The professors gathered in the hall around me lunged as I began to collapse again. A fresh wave of piercing pain flooded across my skin as they grasped at my flesh attempting to haul me back up right. It was such unexpected, fierce pain I was caught off guard, screaming at the contact. They immediately released me, and I struggled to get away from them, nearly crawling, my head was still half delirious.

It wasn't until Black Stepped away from the line of confused teachers that I noticed him. In any case, I diverted my eyes and hid my head between my knees as I sat shaking in the center of the Great Hall.

Only a handful of students had stayed over the Holidays, but the ones that did were watching with confused and curious expressions. They whispered to their friends about me, their judgment pressing in like fog around me. I was weak; everyone was seeing me in this pathetic feeble form.

I felt like crying, and just then a dry sob heaved through my body, making me shake more violently.

This wasn't fair. Those deaths were permanently burned into my mind…all those people dying. Even if I could somehow stop, warn, of this event, even if it never happened now…I would still remember the sickening torture.

The Professors stepped forward uncertainly, seeking to comfort me, but were cautious with my previous reaction. There were only four, but their billowing robes made them seem much bigger. They made me feel even smaller.

I winced as Professor McGonagall laid a supposedly comforting hand on my shoulder, but she quickly withdrew it as I hissed in agony. It felt like fire was burning the surface of my flesh, like heated flames were licking the skin where she had touched me.

She seemed perplexed for a moment, and glanced at Dumbledore for reassurance. He seemed to be thinking, a look of concern on his withered, yet still lively features. But since I, a hopeless wreckage of a person, came into this school, he seemed wearier with each passing day. My heart sank. This happened to every unlucky individual that was unfortunate enough to cross paths with me—they became tired and exhausted, a mere shadow of what they used to be.

I was more of a killer than I would ever know. I was extinguishing life around me by just being near.

Depression strangled me. Sadness's own dreary color filling my insides with ice—an extreme contrast with the fiery surface of my skin.

"Is it our touch that hurts her?" Asked Professor McGonagall apprehensively.

"Sirius seemed to be able to touch the girl." Added Slughorn helpfully.

I huddled myself closer together on the floor, willing myself to just dissolve, to die right here and end this torture.

"Mr. Black? Would you kindly help accompany Miss Thornhill to the Infirmary?" I heard the scuffled of footsteps as Black undoubtedly approached me, and I stiffened in response, but my grudge was soon forgotten as he laid his hand on my shoulder. Imeadiantly I was filled with a sence of peace. But more than the settling, what arrested me was my intuitive understanding that he was there, as if he could help lift all of my dizzinging troubles with his simple touch; a problem of the soul, a heaviness of the heart, a darkness of the consciousness.

"This is certainly strange. Mr. Black do you think you can carry her to the Hospital Wing?—as no else seems to have the ability to soothe her the way you seem to?"

"Easily." He replied, and before I could half interpret what was said, I was scooped into warm arms. The feeling of serentity was lost with the sudden movement.

"Please…put me down…" My pleading voice was weak, even in my own ears. Never had a vision had such an effect on me.

He paused in his steps, but then continued as the Professors bustled him forward. I didn't dare look up at him, look at that mocking smirk, his critical evaluation of everything I did.

_Don't say anything. _

I nearly cried in my emotionally unstable interval at the icy, angered sound of His voice. My body trembled as the horribly familiar tone hollowed out my insides and fear dropped like a rock into the pit of my stomach.

_If you let a word drop from your disgusting lips about my attack…_

His voice was rough with rage, as if he had been chewing gravel. He left the threat open with possibilities, but not completely. I felt his phantom hands with in my body close around the windpipe of my throat. I choked for air, and Black stopped suddenly looking down at me and back up at the professors in panic.

I heard the crunching of my own ribs with in my own body, they snapped like twigs under His influence. The pain was excruciating, but it awoke me from my daze like state. I regained my will, the strength to fight back.

_Give up…_

His assaults continued, the pain increasing as I felt the Cruciatus Curse fill me. Every shadow of my body was filled with searing, fierce pain.

"Never." I growled furiously. Everyone in the Hall seemed taken aback from my remark, then suddenly, realization dawned on the Headmaster's face. He swiftly pulled me from Black's arms and layed me on the floor. His touch no longer hurt.

"Is he there, Kira?" He asked, peering at me with a hard expression, he seemed to be consentrating hard. My jaw clenched as another sickening snap echoed through my body. I nodded stiffly, keeping my concentration inwards. Voldemort was speaking to me with such rage it burned my throat and stomach. I pushed him out of my body as he struggled to weaken me with agonizing torture.

A scream escaped my lips as another assult pulled my thoughts away from pushing Him out. I wrestled him out the imaginary door of my mind, trying to desperately close and lock it before he could intrude again.

Another twenty minutes passed before I could breath again. Before I could speak and function. The hall was deathly silent as Dumbledore whisked me away to the hospital wing.

The phantom intruder was gone, for now.

The Hospital Wing was lit merrily, as if nothing dark and dangerous ever happened at all.

Across the room, next to the other six cots, Dumbledore and McGonagall whispered to each other, occasionally glancing slyly my way. The sliver of a moon provided little light tonight, and the torches and lamps were lit around the room casting spidery shadows in their amber glow.

Slughorn had retired for the night, although it just seemed he was frightened of me. Madam Pomfrey was hovering over me, fussing over every little thing, and Sirius Black sat on the edge of a clean bedspread looking out the long windows above the headmaster at the stars outside.

Although I hated him being here, I undoubtedly had no choice, as Dumbledore seemed to think that his pressance was important.

I refused to lay down on the hospital bed, so I sat up right, a top the stiff sheets. Madam Pomfrey had thrown a horrific fit at this, but I refused to comply with her demands and finally she gave up with an unsatisfied huff. Occasionally she would try to catch me off guard and push me to the mattress when I wasn't looking, but as all her attempts failed she had no choice but to deal. It made me feel less crimpled sitting up, instead of lying on back in an extremely vulnerable position.

I was forced to drink a disgusting pasty booger colored potion to heal all my broken bones. I drank the first one with great difficulty, but when she handed me a second one I discretely dumped it into a black and red plant beside the bed. It hissed in response, and I tried to calm it before Madam Pomfrey turned around. Unfortunately she came bustling back up to me, seemingly shocked I had sucked down the potion so fast, until she spotted the pale green sludge in the pot of her plant. She glared at me suspiciously and turned around to get another one.

I tried to look innocent, but the hissing plant was a dead give away. She returned several minutes later with an even larger container of the liquid goop, and I stared down at it gloomily as she towered over me waiting for me to drink the disgusting wet-cement flavored muck.

Black snickered from the cot several paces away and I made sure to return it with an icy glare. He just grinned crookedly in response as I lifted the vile to my lips.

Dumbledore and McGonagall swept over to the end of my cot and I retreated my legs, pulling them into knot under me as I watched them wearily over the rim of the glass tube. Madam Pomfrey made a disgruntled noise as moved, but no one paid her any mind.

"Are you feeling any better?" Professor Dumbledore asked kindly, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning forward. The torchlight from the wall behind me shimmered and reflected off his half moon glasses, and Professor McGonagall pursed her lips worriedly.

I pulled a disgusted face and placed the bottle of healing potion down, glaring at it with a passion.

"I feel fine. In fact," I shoved off the bed and stood between the next cot and the one I was sitting on. "I think Ill head back to the common room." I tried to quickly extract myself from the center of things, but Black caught my arm before I could whisk past him. I wrenched my arm from his grasp and growled at him. Sirius Black just jetted his head pointedly in the direction of the two elderly professors. Grudgingly I turned back to them.

"I assume I'll be receiving a letter with the needed information?" Dumbledore inquired, looking saddened by some thought. I nodded slowly, wincing slightly as I imagined the fight I would have to go through again if I were to write down my knowledge of the Death Eater attack. Voldemort would not be happy. In fact I would probably get some amount of brain damage.

Dumbledore seemed to notice my wince.

"Mr. Black, would you kindly help her write the report?" Bewildered I looked up. What? Did he sincerely think that _Black_ could possibly help me?

"No! Honestly, Ill be fine." I interrupted suddenly, my voice volume reaching a shout.

"Of course, Professor. Ill be glad to help." I growled at the dark haired teen.

Suck up.

He just grinned in response. And Dumbledore nodded, pleased, then he returned his watery gaze on me again.

"Miss Thornhill—" He began.

"Kira." I corrected without a thought. He nodded, and a phantom of a smile graced his pale lips.

"Of course. Kira, Ive meant to ask you. How many futuristic visions have you had since you've come to Hogwarts?"

"Eight." I answered immediately, wondering why he would want to know.

"Ah. I see." He bobbed his head thoughtfully, his long silvery beard jouncing as he did so. "I believe I have only heard of six?"

"The other two were unimportant." I answered coldly.

"May I know anyway?" He asked hopefully. Everyone was hanging on every word that slipped from my lips.

"Lily and James get married." He smiled brilliantly and so did Black, although Sirius looked slightly amused and shocked.

"Ah…those two." He nodded his head affectionately. "I always thought they would make it. And the other?" He asked curiously. I hesitated, a vision flying across my brain of my own dead body.

"Equally unimportant." I answered vaguely. The Professor's face seemed to close, and sadness tugged his lips downward.

"Kira, you are just as important as anything." He seemed to read my mind. I doubted I was as important as a dead fly.

"I know." I lied, turning slightly to hide my face. "I'm going to the Gryffindor tower." I sighed deeply, "You'll have the information by morning, Professor." I assured him wearily, before flitting out of the Infirmary before Black could possibly follow.

In the Common room, I sat tapping my fathered quill against a blank parchment, contemplating when Black would get back so I could start. I didn't want him to help me, so I intended on waiting until he slipped up to his dorm ready to retire before I began. I could start now, but then I would run the risk of him running in when I was in the midst of battling the Dark Lords internal attacks, and I did not wish for that to happen. I would undoubtedly be very vulnerable.

I was just about fed up with waiting for him, when Black entered. I could feel Voldemort pressing into my mind as a stray thought of giving the information to Dumbledore fluttered into my brain. I had been trying not to think of it so he wouldn't get suspicious.

It was now or never. Voldemort was already on alert; the longer I waited the more he would try to stop me.

_Traitor. You good for nothing filth, I'll kill—_

Black laid a large hand on my shoulder and Voldemort vanished from my brain. I looked up at the face of Sirius Black startled. He seemed to read my expression and his face switched from impassive to his normal wicked grin.

"Old Dumbles asked me to touch you while you wrote." He explained intimately waging his brows in a suggestive manner. I quickly swatted his hand away. I was assaulted by a violent fiery lash of fury that swooped through me in a haze of fierce heat.

_You disgusting little bint. You think you can beat me?..._

It felt like he was stomping on my skull and I was just as surprised as Black when a trickle of crimson blood dripped from my nose, staining the white parchment with a tiny scarlet droplet. He immediately put a hand back on me and the voice disappeared, as did the pain.

I sighed deeply in relief, he looked disturbed and unsettled as he watched me relax.

"Does it really help?" He asked, his tone admitting he was shocked. I nodded slowly, regarding the blood on the parchment, and wiping my nose. It had stopped bleeding.

"Stay there." I instructed wearily, hoping he wouldn't make this into some sort of game. Hand on—stop bleeding; Hand off—start bleeding—What fun!

He nodded his head, an impassive expression filling his handsome features. I scribbled the details of the death eater attack quickly, wanting to take advantage of this certain stroke of luck. With Blacks heavy hand laid casually on my shoulder I managed to write the most painless report for Dumbledore yet.

I placed the quill down with a feeling of lightheartedness. While I stood I grabbed Sirius Blacks Hand off my shoulder and held it tightly in my hand as if he was the only thing keeping me bound to earth.

With a quick experiment, I let go briefly, wincing when the onslaught of torture raged again, before I quickly snatched his hand in mine again breathing a cool breath of relief.

He watched me curiously.

""He's still mad." I explained quickly, dragging him with me out of the common room.

"Who's mad?" He interrogated fiercely. "Is that what these 'attacks' are?" Black seemed to have had this question burning him for a while, obviously confused and feeling out of the loop. But I wasn't about to go and tell him the most feared wizard in the world talked to me, and tried to force me to do what he wanted.

Merlin, I sound crazy. I needed something to occupy my mind. I jerked Black forward again, as he trailed behind slightly. He protested feebly.

"What's Christmas?" I asked suddenly, remembering my previous bother form this evening. He stopped abruptly, successfully making me stumble back wards and almost fall on my arse. Black gapped at me, shocked.

"Are you joking?" He asked openly, still disbelieving. I rolled my eyes.

"No." I tugged his arm, willing him to keep walking. "Come on, I need to deliver this." I held the parchment up as a reminder. He started slowly, looking dazed. I sighed, obviously I said something wrong again.

After a moment he spoke.

"It's a muggle holiday, for some religion, but it kind of became a world wide thing. Everyone gets the day off, even the Ministry Of Magic takes the day off. People exchange gifts, eat excellent food and decorate trees with lights and ornaments. I don't know, its hard to explain." He eyed me for a moment as I plowed forward through the dark corridors. "Ive never had to explain it before."

As we reached the statue that lead to Dumbledore's office I dropped Black's hand hesitantly to be greeted with pain free silence with in my head.

"You can go now. It doesn't hurt anymore." I addressed him, taking the remaining steps to the statue.

"So that's it? You use me, then leave me high and dry?" He ridiculed jokingly.

"Yup." I turned to the statue, the password on my tongue…

"Don't I get to go up to the office with you?" he asked sarcastically.

"No," I said, turning exasperated toward him.

"And why not?" Black said defiantly.

"Because I know the password—" I leaned forward and whispered it to the stony figure. "And you don't" I leapt on the spiral staircase that emerged and disappeared before Black could even be heard protesting.


	8. At The Bottom of The Pit

The corridors were silent now. Not like they had been extremely occupied before, due to the lack of students still at Hogwarts for the holiday. It was past curfew, and few children here were not out looking for detention.

Over the days, I had taken for these night wanderings of mine, they involved my mind in other things than thinking about…You-Know-Who's hauntings and…my visions, and that certain date…but right now, my mind was wrapped around the prospect of sleep. The yearning to rest my tired body was unbearable torture.

I had never known how necessary rest was until I experienced the lack of it first hand. It was a mixture of pure exhaustion aching in my bones and muscles along with the feeling that I going to black out at any moment. Just keel over and die—as if I was dissolving before my very own eyes. My muscles felt sore and dry, like old, cracked rubber bands that snap when they stretch.

I sighed quietly, wondering if how I was living could actually be called _living._ I doubted it. How many times had I considered death as a relief?

It seemed cruel that as soon as I have found friends and people I consider the closest to family, I realize I'm going to be as dead as a doornail before the end of the school year.

The soft patter of footsteps alerted me that Nala had once again been following me. I turned to see the soft creamy orange fur of her slender shape as she glided effortlessly over the floor and launched herself into my arms. The soft ginger fur ball purred in my arms and I rolled my eyes at the cat.

Her gentle innocence melted away some of my more gloomy thoughts. A distraction, I was greatly glad for.

Ever since that day after my first office visit with Dumbledore she had been trailing behind me, mewling in her sweet manipulative voice. Damn cat; she's got me wrapped around her finger—or paw…?

So I deemed the furry orange thing Nala. That is, until people start returning from the holidays and someone claims her.

Students would be returning tomorrow morning on the Hogwarts express, and classes would follow the succeeding day.

Lily had sent me a letter about how her vacation was going, and I read it with mild interest. Her grandpa had passed away and now her family owned his summer home near a river. Lily didn't seem sad with the passing of her grandparent, but who am I to judge.

There was a Thanksgiving feast held at Hogwarts for those remaining, but it was small and anything other than grand. There were very few people staying at school for the holiday.

I dropped Nala back to the floor and she mewled indignantly in protest, flicking her long orange cream tail haughtily.

I had been exploring Hogwarts during the break and was quite pleased when I found several unknown passageways. It felt like a treasure hunt of some sort, and my midnight explorations were the closest thing to fun I had been involved in for a long time.

I trailed my fingers on the wooden walls, gathering dust on the sensitive pads of my fingers. The portraits were watching wearily, leaning over through the frames to whisper to one another. I was used to people talking about me.

The torches along the next corridor were flicking amber light across the stonewalls, sending baleful shadows along across the hallway.

My mind was wandering away from me; I was calculating the quickest way to the Gryffindor tower so I could fetch my wand before I went out again. I didn't like the stairs, they were unreliable, but that seemed to be the most direct way. I would have to go right, then left, then left again before I reached the fist stone stair, but…

I collided with a warm body. Thrown off by the weight of the obstructer, I stumbled back but managed not to fall to the unforgiving hard floors.

Sirius Black looked just as shaken as I was, but he seemed to gather himself quickly.

"Don't want to walk that way; Professor McGonagall is coming." He said quickly, walking past the doors of the Professor's lounge and toward the direction I was walking away from.

I shook my head, catching Black's attention. "Filch is coming form that direction." I told him, as confusion pooled in my brain like dark ink. I didn't want to dwell on how I knew that. Just then, Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, appeared out of the darkness, her golden red eyes glowed as she sounded the alarm to the caregiver. Nala scampered away, disappearing conveniently.

Black swiveled in both directions, as if trying to choose which authoritive instructor he would rather take detention from. Then in an instant he yanked on my arm and pulled us both through the redwood door of the teachers lounging area.

I snatched my arm from him, unhappy by the sense of relief that flooded me as his hand grasped my skin, the feeling like for a moment every worry of mine was lifted.

"You idiot." I hissed, taking in the cozy faded teal couches and the orange fire burning in the comfortable room. There was a small kitchen to the left, with several large cupboards about waist height to the right of the sink, against the wall. "This is the staff lounge. They are probably both headed here." I glared at him. We would get in more trouble for being in here than in the halls. As if Professor McGonagall wished to prove my point, we hard her sharp voice inform Filch she left her weeks homework's assignments here earlier in the afternoon. They both could be seen outside the little round window on the door, talking outside.

Before I could breath a word of protest he tossed me over his shoulder like a rag doll and shoved me into one of the large cupboards. Then, to make matters worse off, he hopped in as well.

The wooden storage holds where probably supposed to store things like old sheets and comforters, but now it was vacated. The space was barely tall enough for me to sit on flat my bottom with about six inches of space above my head. I had two inches to spare on either side of my waist, it was about the width of a textbook, and lastly, I had to bend my knees so my ankles wouldn't hang out the opening. Black positioned himself lightly on my hips, his knees on either side of my waist after he closed the small cupboard opening. If he were able to lean back, his body would be propped up against my bent knees, and his arms were in the corners of our wooden confine holding his weight off me. His back was hunched forward and his head was only inches above mine, and he was breathing hard as both Filch and McGonagall entered the room chatting formally.

I was completely shocked. Frozen. Disturbed. Surprised. Upset, and completely and utterly thrown out of my comfort zone.

I slide my back down the wall more, trying to remove my face from so close to his.

"Shhhh…" He hissed quietly, shifting his weight on me. We listened for a moment, and I watched over his shoulder through the crack in the cabinet where light slipped through. I was trying to distract myself from this horrid situation.

"Well," Filch stated awkwardly, when an uncomfortable silence fell between them. "I best be off! Mrs. Norris has informed me of roaming students." The last part he said rather cynically, and for a fleeting moment I was glad I was not out there, but then I remembered my predicament and cringed inwardly.

Black's warm breath was washing across the right side of my neck, and it was impossible to ignore the fact that he was _sitting _on top of me.

McGonagall was now perched on one of the teal green faded sofas, reviewing homework assignments and drinking properly from a cup of tea. Oh no. Wasn't she going to leave?

Panic boiled in the pit of my stomach. I glanced wildly back at Black, who was still hunched over, looking like a statue.

"What's goin' on?" He asked quietly, his voice startled me, and if he weren't on top of me, I would have jumped. My heart thumped wretchedly against my heart cage.

"Filch left. McGonagall's reading." I turned to glare back at him, bringing my face back to the center. "What a brilliant idea this is. Look where it's us!" I whispered sharply. Anger bubbling to the surface of my emotions. "First of all, _don't you EVER put you your hands on me again—_"

"Hey!" He cut in; still whispering, bringing his head lower so he could look me in the eyes. His temper showed through his own. "If I hadn't found you a hiding spot you would've gotten a detention! I _saved_ your—rather fantastic, by the way," He winked in the dull light. "—arse! If I hadn't reacted, why you'd—"

"Oh sod off, Black!" I was having trouble keeping my voice regulated. "I would rather serve one hundred detentions than spend _five minutes_ somewhere with you!—"

"Hello?" McGonagall asked sharply, wondering, most likely where the noise was coming from.

We both hissed and retracted in response. Our voices died as we hushed into quiet, waiting for her to return to her work. I shifted my weight; the cramped space in the cabinet was getting uncomfortable.

Black let out a low groan as I shifted my hips and I froze, an icy chill splintering down my spine.

I looked back at him, startled.

"_Stop bloody moving."_ He growled harshly, his eyes alight with something unrecognizable—almost glassy, and misty.

I stiffened at his words.

"I'll do whatever _want."_ I snarled back, but I remained still in fear of the emotion in his eyes.

I'm not entirely certain how long we waited in that small storage space, but the time dragged on endlessly. Maybe it was the thick tension between us as we glared in opposite directions. Or maybe it was the significantly awkward way we were seated. With his body settled upon my hips and his shoulders hunched over me, it could easily be considered a fantastic sex position. And that thought was burning me up with uncomfortable anxiety.

It was irritating being so close to him without being able to hex him into the next country. The amount of self-restrain I used whenever he whispered suggestive comments in my ear was unimaginable. I was impressed with myself, a very rare occurrence, with the amount of control I showed.

"I think she's leaving," I whispered, as I heard the sounds of McGonagall gathering her things.

He made a hopeful sound in the back of his throat and attempted to turn unsuccessfully and see out of the crack I was watching our stern professor from. He sighed in frustration when the space was too small to permit that sort of action.

His breath once again laced across my skin, tingling down my back as the air dusted some stray ringlets across my cheek. It was uncertainly relaxing.

"Will you stop _breathing_ on me?" I demanded irritably, crinkling my nose for effect. The tranquil sensation of being dipped into calming water whenever he was close enough to touch set me on edge. My body wanted to unwind and loosen whenever he was too near like this, while my mind went wild, trying to push away this weakness.

I always pondered if this was some sort of trap; that one day when I was appreciating the silence of his peaceful spell Black would finish me before I could breathe one last breath of life. That he was somehow in league with my enemies, that he wanted me dead as much as I did myself those first days on the London streets; alone and lost, pained and confused; depressed and angry; sad and despairing. Nothing can explain the coldness of all those emotions, the darkness of drowning in painful, and sorrow filled depression. I was suffocated by confusion, blinded by sadness, stopped by hopelessness, burned by anguish, and consigned to oblivion.

That was then, and now, with only months to live, I wanted to breathe every breath I could fit into that time period, but the air seemed to be trapped in my lungs and I was unable to reach it. It kept disappearing and leaving me breathless. I had given up on everything…but life.

I just couldn't bring myself to let go of this thin thread I was hanging from. I had given up on feeling, on happiness, on joy. I had given up on tasting and the chance of freedom, on bliss and rest, pleasure…and on love.

But those were all useless, anyway. Anger and pain were the only reliable emotions. Anger was the fire that kept me moving, that kept my body from failing me and falling. Anger was the oil I ran on, it feuled every movement, but burned everything else of mine—any other emotions I might have been hiding were ashes now, and I was left an empty shell of a person I never remembered.

Pain was the reminder I was alive. It was the extra sting of feeling, of suffering that reminded me that I was still living and not just an empty carcass with no emotion. Because pain is an emotion that can morph into so many others, it filled all the emptiness. I confess to purposefully hurting myself so I could feel that thrill of life I was so often left without.

But for such fiery emotions, I was always felt so cold. And I still felt the chill of emptiness even when they were filling and consuming sentiments.

"No," He murmured bringing his face almost level with mine, and letting a slow tantalizing breath of air fan across my skin. I growled in response.

My hands wishing they were holding the smooth birch wood of a wand.

We heard the snap of the Professor lounge door clicking shut, and we relaxed visibly.

"Get off, will you?" I snapped, waiting for him to clamber out of the cramped cupboard leaving me without his weight on my stomach. I was getting annoyed with this vulnerable position, he was quite at an advantage at this point, his body still hovering over me and pinning me down.

"You know? I don't think I will. I rather like this position." My eyes narrowed as he continued, the darkness of the storage area making his face be seen to me only in shadows. "And now—with you unable to escape—I can get some answers." He lowered his face in front of mine again, I watched him cautiously, waiting. What kind of answers? Surely he didn't think I would sell my secrets just because he was sitting on me, stopping me from escaping?

But his face twisted into a different expression as he looked at the hard mask that had overcome my features.

"Can you feel this?" Sirius asked slowly, gauging my reaction as he pressed one of his calloused hands on my cheek. Relief sweet as roses swam through my body, as if someone had released my soul and I was floating freely through open air—drifting effortlessly.

I shook his hand off my face. "Get the _bloody hell off of me."_ I growled forcefully, hoping that he wouldn't try that again. It was hard to think when I was filled with such powerful peace.

He ignored me, his eyes shinning in the line of light from the crack of the cupboard door.

"I can feel it too, you know." He spoke quietly, even when no one else was in the room. It seemed Sirius was speaking it more for his sake than mine.

AS those words tumbled from his mouth, I suddenly felt uneasy. I felt claustrophobic, like I was being suffocated, and I needed to leave. The urge to run was so strong, the need to be alone, to be unhappy and cold, overtook me.

"Get off of me!" I screamed, so sudden and loud that I myself jumped in surprise. Everything was bothering me, grating my already raw nerves. In one swift motion and in a desperate attempt to dislodge his body, I tossed my hips up, throwing him off balance as he whacked his head on the top of the pantry. With a sick smack, his skull collided with the ceiling of our enclosure, but that was not the only movement. I tried to escape—to pull myself around Sirius and make a mad dash for the cabinet door, but the space was too small and something else was going wrong.

IN a sudden unfortunate turn of events, the back of the cabinet, in which I had been using as an uncomfortable backrest, started to move. It slid away, and both Black and I tumbled backwards towards the unknown. We landed with a thud in a torch-lit space.

It was tall, like a tube and was made entirely out of bricks, with nothing more inside of it.

I looked up to see the back of the wooden pantry closing again about fifteen feet above, and it dissolved into the red bricks leaving nothing behind.

Black groaned from beside me, clutching his tanned hand on his forehead. He had obviously had a worse fall than I did.

The place we had landed was not exactly a room at all, it was about ten feet across both ways with nothing but burgundy brick coving the walls. The brick enclosure went up as far as I could see and then disappeared into darkness. On the opposing wall, was the only furnishing in this entire cinderblock paddock; a lone torch hung on the wall with a rusted metal support.

"Great, not only do you shove into a pantry meant from cereal—_not people_—but you chose a demented cupboard." I growled sarcastically standing up to start looking for escape passages. He only groaned in response, his raven hair falling over his eyes as he rolled onto his forearms.

"You have your wand?" I asked, patting the brick wall as I walked around the cold space, keeping my eyes out for hidden passages. Even the floor was made of the burgundy brick.

"Uh, yeah" He answered gruffly, reaching into the deep-pocketed jeans still laying flat on his stomach propped on his rather muscular forearms.

Sirius pulled out the thin wooden rod, before shoving off the stone ground and tossing his messy hair out of his eyes as he stood to his full height.

He rubbed his forehead absently; he must have hit it rather hard. I felt fine.

I took the wand from him, as he was distracted with settling himself.

"Where are we?" He asked suddenly, as if he just realized we were not where we resided moments ago.

"How would I know?" I tapped the thin wand on one of the extensively tall walls. They went straight up, completely smooth until the receded into darkness about one hundred yards up.

As I silently muttered the charm, I hoped desperately that some passage would show up. The cabinet we fell out of was definitely gone; the place it had receded into was completely innocent looking, like nothing had happened.

A grinding sound behind me caused my attention to stir in that direction. Sirius was watching too, as slowly a hole appeared above our heads in the impassive brick walls. The brick blocks seemed to recede to produce a large rectangular slot that lead into complete darkness. We stared in tandem as we considered our options. I most definitely didn't want to stay here with Black.

I glanced sideways at him; he was standing in baggy jeans and a dark t-shirt rubbing the back of his neck as he considered the hole.

He turned to me. "Why'd we fall out of the pantry?" He asked sounding startled.

"Don't know, but this is the way out." I answered. "I would definitely rather be serving detention right now." I glared at him. " Out of all the places to hide, you choose a demented cupboard. Way to go, Black. You amaze me with your lack of intelligence every day." I assured him bitterly, grimacing when I realized that we had no idea if this new hole was actually a way out. The thought of spending the entire night in this brick vertical tunnel seemed appalling.

"Hey! How was I supposed to know it would deposit us into some _hole_." He defended angrily.

"Well, you could have left me out of it either way. I didn't ask you to hide me."

"_Sorry for trying to_ _help_." He growled gruffly, looking suddenly a lot bigger and more intimidating. I sighed, weariness settling like a thick blanket over my body.

"Lets just drop it." I suggested. Turning to the task at hand. The Big Dark Scary Unknown Hole.

"_You're_ the one who brought it up." He reminded me bitterly, his voice frustrated.

"I said _drop it_. Now how the hell are we going to get up there?" I pointed to the object of scrutiny: the possible escape. Suddenly, Sirius smirked, forgetting his anger.

"Looks like you, Kira, are going to have to get on my shoulders." He grinned suggestively, and took several steps closer to me, until he ws leaning over me. "Sounds fun, huh?"

---

"If you drop me, I swear on Merlin you wont see the light of day again." She stated, eyeing Sirius as he crouched on the ground, waiting for her to clamber on his back.

He chuckled, watching her expression over his shoulder. "I don't doubt that." He grinned, and honestly didn't doubt he wouldn't see the sun again if he harmed her. Not like he planned to.

At times Kira seemed so completely in control and unbreakable—strong. But other times, most recently, he noticed how fragile she also seemed. When she thought no one was looking, and she let that unreadable expression slip from her face…It was painful to see. Her face would fall slack with misery, and sadness. No matter how hard Kira tried to be strong, Sirius realized as he watched her, that she always seemed lost and alone, even when she faked smiles and was surrounded by friends.

Detached, she was detached.

He heard her sigh from behind him, and he looked over his shoulder at her again. Kira's long chocolate hair fluttered with the breath she let out, her Indio eyes reflecting the dim orange light that the torch provided.

Sirius had watched her levitate the torch above their heads with his wand just moments ago. It was still hovering there, bobbing lightly. The fluidity and grace in which she preformed magic was always met with admiration. It always surprised him when so simply she would make up charms, use wandless and wordless magic—almost as if she had lived and breathed magic for centuries, as if she had some truce and understanding with the powerful force, because it respected her more than anyone he had ever seen.

And it burned Sirius's inside to know what she had suffered, even though he was sure he had never imagined the things she'd seen and witnessed. But at the same time he didn't want to know, and didn't want to feel pity for her.

Sirius wanted a reason to hate her, and it was difficult when he felt sad and anguished by her circumstances. And maybe just a little attracted to her…

He had never had any problems harassing her, or hexing her, making her angry, or insulting her, until this morning. When the daily prophet came out with an article regarding her story a monster thrashed at his ribs, ripping them out to get to his heart, where there, Kira wrapped herself around his sympathy. Her tragedy was heart wrenching, and she didn't even know it. He knew she hadn't read the article, but most of the world did. Sirius now wondered if it was fair that everyone else knew (vaugly) what happened to her and her family, but she still was oblivious.

Kira's face was hollow now, emotionless, which meant she was thinking. She seemed to detach herself from the world when her thoughts took a darker turn. He could see it in her eyes, the way they narrowed and vacated, darkened and intensified.

"Oh, come on. I'm not going to bite." He grinned at her, trying to pull her thoughts back to the present and more pleasant surroundings. "Unless, of course, you want me to." Flashing a crooked smile, he waited for her to climb on his back. Desperate to keep this sitiuation as light as possible, maybe he could even pull a smile out of her.

But she only frowned and moved to climb on his back.

He was looking forward to this, more than he cared to admit. She tossed one of her slim thighs over one of his shoulders and then the other, until she was sitting on the bridge between his lean arms. Her legs wrapped around his neck, and her hands woven in his hair to keep her balance.

Oh, he was definitely enjoying this. Kira looked up at the mysterious square hole in question, her eyes clouding over with thought.

"Okay, stand up now." Sirius grinned,

"Sure thing," Slowly, he got up from his kneeling position, careful that Kira stayed steadily on his shoulder blades. Sirius clutched her legs as he swiftly got to his feet, barely noticing the extra weight.

He smirked to himself; she was wearing a skirt.

"Go to the wall." She commanded, pointing a finger at the brick wall, the one that, fifteen feet up housed a gaping hole that was their hope of escape.

It had been an hour since they had landed in the blasted brick enclosure. The fiery chocolate haired girl spent most her time cursing, and flinging curses at both Sirius and the rather unfortunate cabinet—that disappeared into the wall and stubbornly refused to reappear.

While she was thinking of what charms could possibly help them get the cupboard to re-materialize, Sirius lounged obnoxiously on the floor suggesting ridiculous names like: Squabledoor and trying to pass them as actual charms to see Kira say them. Which would amuse him greatly. If she had actually said the fake names instead of cursing him raw, which she ended up doing.

Finally, Kira had given up on the reappearance of the pantry and wearily turned to the dark, scary hole that looked creepily black and ominous.

As Sirius approached the wall Kira told him to, he reveled in the cool warmth her touch sent tingling down his spine. It was always like this, and it surprised him even more when she felt the sensations that rippled from her flesh and slipped under his. It was mesmerizing, and if he weren't focused on balancing Kira on his shoulders he would take a moment to bask in the peaceful bliss she created for him.

"Why are you wearing your school uniform? It's the Holidays you know." He rolled his eyes upwards so he could watch her as she answered. Her face was inattentive, serene as she gazed up at the possible way out of this brick prison.

"I don't have any other clothes." She stated absently, almost mistily. Sirius supposed this was the relaxed feel of his skin on hers. He didn't even try to comprehend why Kira and him were so reactive to each other. Too many possibilities.

Sirius was surprised with her answer. "None?" He questioned incredulously. "Your wear stuff on the weekends." He remembered the low rise jeans she wore last Saturday, and the slim tank top she wore the weekend before, when he first started realizing just how skinny and unhealthy she looked, and yet still managed to look unearthly beautiful but now in a more dark, sunken, sort of way. Her beauty was sharper and more pronounced now.

Sirius reached the wall and leaned his palms against it, watching her as she reached up towards the square dark hole. It was still up a ways.

"All borrowed from Lily and the Twins. I can't reach, if I stand do you think we'll be tall enough?" Sirius shrugged.

"Maybe. You honestly don't have any clothes? What did you come to Hogwarts in?"

She was looking up at the gap with a calculating expression.

"Rags. Some clothes the ministry gave me. Okay, Im going to stand, do you think you can hold me?"

"Sure thing," Sirius answered easily, moving his hands father up her thighs where his fingertips brushed against the hem of her skirt. She growled; he looked up and grinned at her as she pushed his hands back down.

Slowly she positioned herself so she was now standing on Sirius's shoulders, using the to steady herself. He clutched at her ankles, waiting for her to find her balance.

"Okay, I've got it." She sighed in relief, and reached up, her hands found perchase around the window.

"You better not be looking up my skirt, Black." She warned, bringing her other hand up as well, feeling the rim for better hold to pull her self up.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Sirius replied sweetly, managing a stealthy glance up at the pretty girl, whose uniform skirt was temptingly open.

She dug her heel into his shoulders and he cringed in response.  "Wasn't looking, promise." He defended quickly, and she snarled, her lush upper lip curling upwards. Her hair framed her face as she looked down on him, her eyes flickering dully in the simple firelight.

"I'll hex you, Black." He grimaced.

"I believe you." Sirius kept his eyes steadily on the bricks in front of his nose from then on until Kira made it safely on the ledge. She pulled her body up with her arms and gained leverage with her knees until she was sitting in the hole that lead to unknown places.

"Whats up there?" Sirius call from bellow as she looked downward and upward thorugh the other opening, leaning out the other side precariously.

"Don't know. I cant see a thing. Its bloody pitch black." She said, turning back to him.

"How am I going to get up there?" Kira shrugged, then tossed his wand down to him as he snatched it out of the air.

"Transfigure your shirt into a rope." Then she returned looking out into the black ness of the window.

Sirius grumbled, but could see nothing else to do. So he tore off his shirt roughly and tossed it to the red brick floor and harshly pointed his wand at the black tee. It transformed into a simple thick bundled rope.

Kira stood in the opening, waiting for Sirius to throw it up to her so she could lower it back down. Even standing, the top of the gap rached well over her head. It was huge, taking up a large portion of the wall. She looked small standing there, her slender body silhouetted against the starless black behind her.

Sirius wound up his arm and hurled the cord up at her, the roped spun in the air, unwinding in the process and flew over her head into the darkness behind her. Even if she had jumped, she would have been unable to snatch it out of the air.  Kira stared stunned, at the emptiness where the rope disappeared. Then she spun on her heel, her eyes a-rage.

"_You stupid, idiotic, prat_! Now look what youv done! Ugh!" She groaned, dragin her hands dramaticly down her face. Then with a resigned sigh, "Take off you pants."

The shirtless Sirius watched her little seen with amousment, "Sorry to disappoint, luv, but I'm not wearing any boxers today." He grinned suggestively. "Unless that is, your prepared to—"

"Okay! Enough!" Kira cut him off, looking disgusted. She groaned, spinning around and pacing as if looking for escape then stopped and harshly started ripping her own shirt off. Sirius blanched slightly, watching her rougly undo the button of her blouse, she wrenched her arms out of the sleeves, the balled up the white shirt and throwing down at him.

He stared at the shirt at his feet for a moment before turning his eyes back on her. The firelight flickered off her tanned creamy skin. It looked flawless in the amber glow, her hare shoulders except for the thin black straps of her bra. But the thing that most intreged him was the way she way looking at herself. It was like she was watching someone puke, as she looked down upon her own body, her eyebrows creased with disgust as she examined a paticular spot on her wrist, then she roughly shoved her own arm away turning her fiery self-loathing eyes on him.

"Go" She commanded, pointing at the shirt. Sirius smirked slyly down at the blouse, still warm from her skin, and watched her as he picked it up.

"If you dying to rip of your clothes all this time, you could've told me. I would have been happy to oblige." He fingered the fabric, eyeing her with a mischievous crooked smirk.

She glowered at him, raw anger flashing brightly across her midnight eyes. "Go to hell, Black." She growled, standing rigidly in the open space. "Just transfigure the bloody garment." She snarled, her hand gripping her other forearms self consciously. Sirius could se no reason for her to be self-conscious. She looked stunning, the silk of her skin glowed amber, and her flat stomach tanned and flawless. The soft curve of her collar bone and the black satin of her bra compared to her bronzed skin matched beautifully with her dark hair and blazing eyes.

Sirius could feel something constricting his throat, like someone was wrapping their hands around his wind pipe. He watched her fro a moment as the pressure mounted; her eyes were still a huracane of fire, and her fists clenched at her sides, but it was clear she was oblivious to the fact that she was strangling him.

Sirius cupped his hands around his throat to show her what was happening, and imeadiantly realization and shame flickered across her face. The pressure released around his throat and he breathed in deeply. Kira let her hands fall limp at her sides, the anger extinguished her eyes, and she hung her head wearily for a moment.

She let out a shuttery breath and sighed. "Just transfigure the damn thing." She muttered and Sirius nodded calmly, his mind reeling with what just happened. She had done this before to him, in her anger accidentally bruising his shoulders with her gaze alone. She never meant to, and always seemed disgusted with herself afterwards, but Sirius couldn't help what wonder what she could do when she actually wanted to. What exactly was she capable of? She was a master of dark arts, of unforgivable curses and knew and could do things even the greatest wizards were ignorant to, and, probably the most frightening fact, she learned all these dangerous things from the best, the dark lord himself.

Sirius's mind replayed the words from this mornings article, --_from the ministry's inside source, (Name disclosed) when interviewed he stated that Kira Thornhill, the youngest child of the prominent political wizarding family—belived until recently to be dead-- had been imprisoned by You-Know-Who since the death of her parents in 1954. During the devastating attack on the Thornhill family, believed to have been preformed by You-Know-Who himself, the entire family was brutally murdered in the dinning room of the their treasured mansion. All except one, Kira Thornhill, age five, who was mysteriously missing. The investigators,, after several weeks of searching, wrote the child off as dead, and called all search parties off. Now in the year 1976, it has been discovered that the child is alive, and attending the Famous school Hogwarts of Witchcraft and Wizardry after narrowly escaping the grasp He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Also stated by the Ministry's undercover intelligence, that she has been raised and trained from the tender age of five as a weapon, and used on many occasions to execute missions directed by the feared Dark Lord himself, until the age of thirteen, when the Ministry's undisclosed source states was the start of her rebellion, and was from then on kept under the imperious curse until her recent escape this past summer…_

Kira was raised by him, brainwashed to think what she was doing was right. He twisted all her memories of her parents and family into bad ones, and told Kira he saved her from that fate, when in reality he was stealing her life. He tortured her, and punished her, she became a shell of a girl. Hollow, indifferent, empty. She would do things as told, until she grew old enough to think for herself—to not believe everything anyone told her.

When Sirius went to Dumbledore's office today, to ask about the article—to ask about its truth, Dumbledore had told him much, much more. The headmaster seemed, for once, unsure of what to do about Kira's circumstances. And Sirius was sure he had never seen Dumbledore so sad.

Professor Dumbledore was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, Sirius found out this mourning. And a member alike was a spy in the order. His name was Raymond Vertex, he was an inside source for Dumbledore. This Raymond, was watching the girl in Voldemort's ranks closely, watching her take charge, and change. She changed from a powerful, silent weapon, impassive and unquestioning to demanding answers, refraining her state of mind and distancing herself from Voldemort's purposes. She refused him on several occasions, Dumbledore had said, and she nearly died each time she did. Even the headmaster seemed to cringe at the methods of torture You-Know-Who used to force her…Until finally, after her first attempt of escape, Voldemort placed her under the imperious, and watched her closely.

Raymond was killed two days ago, right after his interview with the daily prophet. He was the one who helped her escape, he became her friend during his time at Voldemort's hide out, and he was killed for it.

There was a mix up, with Raymond and Kira as they apparated away for, hopefully the last time. One last curse was hurled at them as they escaped, and brought with them as they disappeared. It somehow mixed up their path course, dumping Kira in an unknown location—leaving her memory less—and Raymond in an equally bizarre place without the ability to feel pain any longer.

But now he was dead, and Kira seemed about as emotionless as death.

Voldemort never knew Kira was a Seer, and that fact angered him. Dumbledore said that she was only aware of it after she became weary of Voldemort's intentions. He also thought that Voldemort was coming to get her, to take her back. _"Seer's are of great value, that is why it is safer for them to keep their abilities a secret—to protect themselves and their families. Kira would have too, if her visions weren't so violent. I don't envy her Sirius," Dumbledore had shaken his head sadly "Im afraid she has a battle ahead of her, and she's aware of it."_

"_We have to help her." Sirius had said, outraged the headmaster was making her take on this danger on her own. Dumbledore's eyes filled with deep sadness._

"_We cannot force her to except our help, it is her choice. She has learned harshly over the years not to depend on others, and Im afraid she has been given no reason to trust anyone."…._

Sirius shook his head violently, erasing those thought. He no longer seemed smug as he transfigured one of her only shirts into a rope. Suddenly feeling remorseful that he had made her sacrifice clothing she scarcely had.

He tossed the rope gently this time, and she caught it with ease, eyeing his sudden change in attitude with weary suspicion.

"You think you can actually hold my weight?" Sirius asked, tugging on his end of the rope doubtfully.

"No," She answered simply, as Sirius wand suddenly floated up to meet her waiting hand. She pointed the wooden rod at her end and Sirius watched as she magically welded it to the wall with a silver group that shot out. "Go. Climb." She stated indifferently, taking a step back and sitting down in a pretzel formation waiting for him.

Sirius, his bronzed lean chest bared to the world, climbed the rope with his forearm and back muscles working. Finally he reached the solitary window and Kira produced her hand to help him upon the ledge. He grinned triumphantly, shaking his dark hair out of his eyes.

He peered out of the other side, but saw nothing but shadowy darkness. From the little light provided in the other brick chamber, he could see the opposite wall just mere meters in front of him, but he could see no ceiling or bottom. It seemed like one giant tube. The wall connected with the opening curved around making the pipe like intrigue even more.

"What now?" Sirius asked, glancing back at her, surprised when she suddenly was wearing a shirt again. She must have transfigured the rope back. Kira was just buttoning the last button and peering over the edge too.

"I suppose we jump." She said shrugging. The dark haired girl chanced an indifferent glance in his direction, shrugged again and looked back over the edge.

Sirius blanched slightly, loosing his cool for a moment. "Jump? Are you insane? We cant even see the bottom let alone know where it leads." He argued reasonably, gripping his hair in frustration at her defiant look.

Kira placed her hands on her slender hips, cocking her head sideways.

"I can do whatever I want." She stated, glaring at him with her oxford blue eyes. "Besides," she started again, dropping her hands and peering over the side. "It's the only way out."

"If you wanna go 'splat' on the bottom of this pit, go ahead." Sirius waved his hand, "Your choice." Abruptly, she grinned widely, stepping closer to the edge, framed in the darkness of her surroundings.

"I think I will," She looked down at the inky blackness. "Besides," Kira smiled and looked back up at him. "What's the worst that can happen?" Then, before Sirius could come up with a witty reply and call her bluff, she casually stepped off the edge.

In a matter of seconds she disappeared into the depths bellow. Sirius screamed and lunged for her, but she was already gone. He listened, near panic, screaming her name at the top of his lungs. But his ears were met with silence.


	9. The Importance of Air

When I stepped off that ledge, I expected to feel my stomach ripping up inside of me. I expected that it would flip and flop as I fell like when you fall off your bed in the middle of the night unexpectedly, but I also expected it to stop at some time. I didn't think I would be so queasy for that long.

I was swallowed by darkness and engulfed in its thick smoke, at one point I remember looking up and seeing the amber glow of the ledge above, I was also vaguely aware Sirius was calling my name.

He shouldn't care. I wasn't worth it. Even if he thought I was jumping to my death. He didn't know what I knew, that I would be perfectly fine, it would be completely safe…if only I knew how.

The distance felt like hours. At one point, I opened my eyes and unclenched my jaw and thought, _Am I still falling? _It seemed too long. Time slows when there was nothing but black to mark your progress. It was eerie, falling and unable to see what you were passing. If some giant being picked up the earth like a marble, and all the tiny ant sized people fell off, this is how it would feel like to tumble through space.

Only towards the end did I have thoughts about what would be at the bottom. It flitted through my mind that maybe there was no end, and I would just shoot out the other side of the earth. But that thought was cut off the shock of chilling icy water, sharp like razors. It was like a thunderbolt had struck me, and momentarily my heart stopped and then I regained my sense and struggled to the surface.

The chill was a bombshell of ice; it was freezing and dark. I gasped for air and could see nothing but darkness around me, even the tiny glow from above was gone, and I felt the cryptic blackness pressing down on me like a thick unsettling fog.

The water pulled at my body, numb and heavy as lead, my legs and arms refused to move properly. I had to force them to keep me afloat, my entire body felt like I was covered in a thin layer of ice. The water was clawing me down; begin me to join it beneath the surface.

In that first moment of trauma, I felt utterly alone and frightened. I was panicked, alarmed and shocked beyond belief. But then Sirius' voice echoed down the tunnel and all the cold and fear was wiped away like a blue dry erase marker. And I remembered that I wasn't alone for once in my life.

I laughed unexpectedly at the irony of feelings that voice brought—that I was glad to hear it, in my hysteria. Laughter is the shock absorber that eases the misery of life. Right now, I was a grand example of that.

There was silence again, and then, "Are you _laughing_!" He bellowed, clearly upset. "Where the bloody hell are you? What happened? I nearly had a heart attack up here and your having a jolly laugh about it!" He yelled, his voice echoed down the tube, bouncing off the rounded brick walls like a bouncy ball until it reached me.

"It's alright. Im down here."

"Of course you're down there! Where did you think I thought you went? Up?"

"Well there's not much to speak for down here!" I shouted back, my voice carried back to his ears. I splashed a little water, treading, moving my arms franticly to push out the cold—keep my blood flowing.

"Okay, well what _is_ down there?"

"Water!" I answered as loudly as I could, looking blindly up at nothing but darkness.

"Can you see anything?" His voice took a moment to reach me, it reverberated off the stonewalls until it arrived at my ears.

"No, just dark!" I blinked a few times to make sure.

"Im coming down, move out of the way!"

"Maybe you should stay up there. It doesn't look like there are any ways out down here."

"I thought you said you couldn't see?" I stayed silent and looked around, true….I heard his shout as he jumped, and I quickly moved the edges of the circular walls, trying to press my body flat against it, but it was hard with my flailing limbs, working to keep me afloat.

I looked up, blinking trying to see him, but there was nothing. This was what it must be like to be blind. But the darkness was not thin, it was heavy with the knowledge that there was water, and brick and objects around me. I knew that it was there, I could feel it, but my eyes saw nothing. The blackness was both frustrating and terrifying at the same time.

I never knew how much I depended on sight. I felt helpless and vulnerable.

There was a loud splash, and shout. I knew it was useless to look, but I turned my body in the icy water in Sirius' direction instinctively.

"Bloody hell!" He yelled resurfacing and sputtering. "Its fucking freezing!" He thrashed for a moment and I stayed silent, looking blindly in his direction, waiting for him to stop his antics. "Why didn't you tell me it was so sodding cold." He demanded angrily.

"Slipped my mind."

He growled in response. I heard the splash of water.

"_Lumos"_ A bright, brilliant bluish light beamed out of the end of his wand. Sirius was holding it over his head as he tread water with the rest of his limbs. I squinted and blinked into the light, my eyes adjusted slowly, finally focusing on him. He spun around until he saw me along the circular mossy brick wall, then in strong quick strokes he was beside me.

Sirius seemed less angry now that the shock of the water had worn off, his hair hung down in wet tendrils over his eyes, which were dark in the shadows of the light.

With a jolt, I realized he was still bare-chested and his skin looked waxy and pale, but still magnificent in the fake light.

"You okay and everything?" He asked, holding up the wand to get a better look around us, his eyes squinted off into the darkness that enclosed around the light of his wand.

It looked like we had landed in a giant well, by the roundness of the slick walls and the clear but black water. I nodded in answer to his question even though he was looking distractedly around and not at me.

He shouldn't care. Why did he ask? Did he know how useless it was to care? Had he not learned that the more you care the more you loose? He should be angry with me. Angry with me for being alive, like I was angry at myself. He should be angry with me for getting us into this mess. Its always my fault, even when it seems its another's. Im at fault for everything, people know it, they just choose ignore it. How long will it take for everyone to turn on me, finally realize what a mistake I am—how I make everything miserable and hurt?

--

It only took twenty measly minutes for the hypothermia to set in. There was nothing we could do but stay above the surface and try not to let my frozen body slip under the eerily pleasant sounding dark water—to just disappear.

Sirius seemed more positive about the whole thing. He used the wand's light to find and old rusted chain that dangled dejectedly and lonesome on the slimy round wall. He wrapped it around his forearm, and used it so we didn't have to swim constantly and wear down our energy. Our bodies were halfway in the water, my hair hung in frigid wet curls along my shoulders and then floated on the top of the water in a cloud of billowing hair like a cloud of smoke.

Sirius had his free arm holding me up, as we couldn't both use the chain as leverage. His slick hard chest was pressed against my own, which was only clothed with a now transparent dove white linen.

At first I had struggled, protested and tensed, but there was only so long I could hold out in the freezing water on my own. My energy was already at zero from many sleepless nights of tossing and turning, my mind piercing with pain the dark lord infiltrated upon me. It was not sleep, it was anguish—reliving all those awful twisted memories.

I deserved that pain though. I deserved any pain, and horror, fear, or loss that was knifed at me. There were unspeakable things that I had done, horrible, grotesque things that I did not even remember, but deep down I knew. I knew I was not, nor could be normal, or friendly, because of what I had done. I knew that I could not love, or have friendships and family, because I was evil—no matter how much I denied it—I was scarred, broken and damaged, but demonic none the less. A vile loathsome excuse for a person. Yes, I deserved that pain; but I did not disserve this comfort.

Sirius Black was a fairly smart wizard. Yet he still chose to place himself in the path of doom. If I was any better than I claimed, I would not accept him at this moment, I would thrash away from him and make sure he never got tangled with my web of vile lies again.

But I was not any better. And I could not resist the cool reassuring pleasant warmth that pulsed and tingled through my body with his skin pressed against mine. I had spent the hour after our mishap with the deranged pantry pacing and thinking of the mysterious reason I felt this way when he touched me. Not only that, but more importantly, why in Merlin's name did he have to feel this addicting peaceful sensation too.

I am, for one thing, a completely different case entirely compared to Sirius Black. I can control urges and myself. I have self-possession and composure, but Sirius? A raging hormonal teenage boy, who is as pig-headed and arrogant as they get and almost consumed by his obsession with sex? I have my doubts he can control himself.

I should definitely keep my distance…

My cheek was pressed flat against his collarbone, my nose almost brushing against the base of his throat, as he held us both against the wall. The bottom half of my body was numb, but I was vaguely aware I had wrapped my legs around his waist and chose not to dwell on the fact that I was still wearing a skirt and a see-through top, while he wore no shirt and no boxers.

Redirect train of thought.

The water was eating away at my skin, and I was shivering so violently I could have been convulsing. I had to concentrate to keep my teeth from chattering, it was like trying to not blink—whenever you thought of something else for a moment your eyes would automatically do the deed.

Sirius seemed less fazed by the cold than I, and was trying vainly to lighten the dreadful situation by cracking jokes or making a sarcastic remarks. I didn't have the strength to reply, and after some time of my silence he quietly asked, his lips brushing my ear.

"Are you aright, Kira?" The question was soft and worried; it sent another spike of pain through me that someone would care. He shouldn't care. Did he know that? My stomach curled in on its self like something dead or dying. Why do people bother with such a lost cause as me?

I shook my head 'no', because the cold was too much, and I felt he deserved a truthful answer, no matter how small it was compared to my lies.

Silence ate away at the nonexistent gap between us, humming with his thoughts, the only sound was the soft innocent rippling of the icy water that was almost as good at fooling as I was.

Then abruptly, he yanked me off of him and took my hand, placing around the rusted chain he had been gripping. He lit his wand again, kicking his legs to stay afloat on the inky water.

I stared blankly at him, shocked beyond belief but concealing it well, my eyes were dilated from the insistent darkness, but they adjusted quickly to the harsh bluish light.

"You stay here. I'm gunna get us the bloody hell out of here." He said darkly, taking the wand and plunging under the water. The light glowed in the darkness of the murky water like a gleaming pearl, it casted an eerie light under the glowing surface and Sirius peered at the glistening white light with interest. Then, he took a large breath, filling his lungs with as much precious air as possible, before dipping under the icy water and disappearing.

I watched the small ball of opalescent light emitted from his wand bob under the surface, moving further away, getting smaller as he dove deeper. The shadow of his body often covered the compact mass of illumination casting me temporarily in complete darkness once again.

The rugged, rust engraved chain cut into my palm as I held it tightly in my grasp. The icy water clung to my clothes and hair, seeping under my moist skin and burrowing its artic winter deep inside my bones and muscles—making it hard for me to make such simple movements. I shivered violently, and fierce flakes of rusted curosion from the dirty chain pressed into my tender palm, drawing blood that dripped thickly down my forearm and gathered in the crease of my elbow. The dark liquid looked grave and foreboding as it tickled over my skin like a creeping spider.

There was barely any pain, just a dull sting. Nothing. I was barely alive. I wondered if this same chain had cut Sirius, if our blood mingled upon my shadow casted skin.

I turned to check on Sirius again, realizing I had been holding my breath this entire time with burning lungs. It had only been minutes, but it felt like a timeless hiatus where everything seemed to pause except my own treacherous self. I let the slow breath, realizing the light had gone out under the black surface of the water, and the room was returned to blinding darkness once more. Panic just as blinding and dark as the circular space I was in shrieked through my blood, racing to my mind and coagulated there in my skull—freezing all other thoughts. I was frozen with fear colder than the inky hypothermic water, and for a moment thought that Sirius was…the pain was more than it should have been. But then he blasted through the surface, sputtering and coughing, his wand held above his head.

The heart-wrenching, searing hot, piercing agony of his momentary imagined death was far worse than I ever imagined. Far more that it should have been.

I had learned how to control and hide how I truly felt behind a face of cold indifference. To the outside world I seem aloof, mysterious, remote, and more than a little unfriendly. Really, I was trying to protect myself, not just from hidden traitors or untrustworthy wicked people, but from making emotional attachments, from the pain that it will ultimately bring.

It seemed only a mask was no longer enough, yet it was still handy now, as Sirius relit his wand and swiveled in the water, using his arms in legs as a moter and rudder to direct him as he searched for me. He found me in the same place he had left me, my hand clutched the rusted sharp chain, and my face was blank. His hair was wet and disheveled; he shook out his dark mop like a dog would after exiting a particularly exciting pond. His eyes, I could see from the blue-white light, were shinning with excitement and his face broke into an unexpected lopsided grin, showing dimples in the sides of his cheeks.

He swam in quick strokes over to meet me, each time his arm submerged under the water his wand and the light disappeared glowing brightly under the surface. His handsome face still lit with a bright smile he met me near the wall. I watched indifferently, my face closed off and impassive.

I was still shaken with my response to the thought that he might be dead. My body was dulled and the echo of that pain still roared through my body like a receding tide—slow, cold and shallow. I had never felt so cold, and not from the artic water that numbed my skin and muscles and body, but as if somewhere inside of me—but not actually there, imaginative, figurative almost, but stil inside of me none the less—had frozen over. Something deeper.

He reached me and clutched the chain just above where my hand held it. HE grinned down at me, his body close but not uncomfortable next to mine. I had never felt so comfortable next to someone, with their touch. I didn't like being near people, but this somehow felt right, just simple and nice. Like the comfort of family, of safety. It was cool and warm at the same time, not demanding or suffocating, just _easy_.

And that disturbed me. I should not feel comfortable with this contact. I should not have felt pain when I thought—for a moment…

I moved away from him, letting go of the supporting chain, leaving a smear of red liquid on the dirty metal that was lost in the darkness and slipped into the shockingly cold water again. My shoulders dipped under and I fought the chatter of my teeth again and the shiver that threatened to ripple up my spine. Sirius took this as an invitation to resume the position we were in before—that I let go of the chain so he could hold both of up again. _What had I been thinking earlier, letting him touch me like that? Letting him get close to me?_ It seemed so ridiculous, so unlike me. It must have been the water, the water screwed with my head.

He tried to scoop me up again, like he had done last time, but I quickly squirmed out of his grasp. Sirius' eyes clouded with confusion, and watched in silence as I drifted further away from him, from his comfort and safety, to the darkness on the edges of light. Where I disserved to be. Away from everything, in the darkness, not quite there, like a shadow.

"I found a way out." He revealed, without any of the happiness that he had shown earlier. He watched me slowly, his eyes questioning and hurt, his face hollow and vacant. It stung to much to think that I was the one that placed that there.

Suddenly I was angry, I shouldn't feel guilty. I did nothing wrong, nothing to upset him. Nothing had happened tonight which made me feel as I we were any closer, and yet I knew as I thought that I was wrong. Everything had happened.

"Where?"

He watched me closely, still quiet, his eyes scanned my face for a moment then dropped to the black water. He had held his wand under the water, letting the light point the general direction.

"Underwater. It looks like a tunnel."

"And you're sure it leads out of the castle?" He surveyed me for a moment,

"No." I stared back at him, then slowly turned my gaze to the water.

"It could end, be a dead trail. What would we do then? We cant breath under water."

"Well," Sirius started, something angry in his eyes burned. "What do you see? Do you see us getting out of here? That's the only way, you know. Why don't you just look into the future and save us all." He mocked angrily, defensively. He seemed wounded, upset. Did I _see_ anything? Fury pulsed through my body, heating my blood with sickening fire.

"_Excuse me?_" I warned, daring him say it again—to mock me like that, especially about something as selfless and painful as my visions. I dealt with those, repeated them under my own expense to help those harmed within the odd scenes. I helped them, _saved_ people under all the pain and anguish I suffered from the visions themselves and…and _Him. _How could Sirius say that? Was he really so cruel?

"I said," He started, wavering when he saw the shock of mortification and sadness. I hardened my face, leaving nothing to be seen by him, leaving me no vulnerability. "Why don't you just _bloody_ look into the future? Since your so _special_." He hissed, gaining his confidence again, the same blaze burned in his silky eyes, igniting my skin with sharp hot stings like still burning ash, sparks.

"I don't choose what I see _Black._ And you don't know _anything_, youre just an _ignorant selfish little prat_. You don't—you _can't_—understand what its like, what its like being there, seeing and feeling people die, see what no one was ever meant to witness." Despite my best efforts, my voice shook with emotion. It wavered as my throat tightened and my eyes squeezed shut—blocking the impulse to cry. Crying made me feel so weak, so pathetic and I couldn't be either of those. I had to be strong, indifferent and fierce to protect myself as well as others.

I saw the flicker of guilt and remorse in his liquid eyes, he hung his head slightly and I noticed self-loathing among the other emotions.

"Just—just, leave me alone, Black." I muttered quietly, loosing the fire that burned inside of me, suddenly feeling hurt by his spiteful jab.

"I'm…I'm sorry. That was cruel. I know—well I don't, really—but I understand what…you're going through. I'm sorry, I am."

"I don't want your sympathy, or understanding. Just shut up, leave me be. And lets get…try to get—out of here." He nodded slowly. "Lets see this tunnel." Sirius looked up, his damp hair hanging down his forehead, and he smiled a weak, desperate smile, brought his lit wand back under the water.

"Down this way."

------

The water was colder the farther down we went, and darker. My muscles ached from the chill that wound itself around my body, numbing all my movements. I wanted to turn around, to go back to the inviting surface where there was air and it wasn't so cold, but I couldn't tell which way was up or down. The surface of the water was as black as the bottom; both were so dark they seemed to just…not be there. Gone. The absence of matter; nothing. It was confusing and frightening at the same time. The only thing that guided me was the blue shadow of Sirius, holding his wand out and providing a milky pearl of light. He was checking on me more than where he was going.

It seemed strange that he would feel the compulsive need to watch me. Every few seconds he would glance back at me, as if at any moment I might disappear into thin air. And I might, if I used up any more energy shivering.

I clawed my way through the oppressive frigid fresh water; it seemed thicker than water should be, otherworldly in this green blue terrain. Bars of opalescent light beamed away from Sirius's wand, casting a sort of eerie glow around the subsurface environment, making this strange water landscape seem like a scene from an oil painting. It seemed so crisp, so clear and yet so mystifying it couldn't be real.

The blackness continued. The tunnel roamed farther, stretching out to an unknown distance. For the first time, I panicked at the thought that this one breath I held preciously in my lungs might not last until the end. That it might give out, and I would be left with nothing but this artic water to breath…I banished the thought.

My head felt frozen. My mind throbbed under the winter cold water that tried to penetrate my skull, raking its cold pale fingers across my body looking for some weakness. It felt as if someone had unscrewed by skull, popped off the lid of my head and poured a slush of shaved ice on my brain. It was so cold it burned.

And still the blackness persisted. Now, not only my brain was panicking but my body was also reacting to my increased heart rate. Faster heart—more blood—more oxygen, oxygen I didn't have. My lungs burned, and my arms swept out in front of me franticly, searching for any escape.

Sirius noticed my need, suddenly I felt his hand grip my arm, and steer us in some unknown direction. It seemed we were going up, but I was as unsure about that fact as I was about where we were.

How could a school have this death trap inside of it? Shouldn't there at least be some sort of caveat like… WARNING! DEMON CUPBOARD—DO NOT ENTER…? Wouldn't that be safer for the student body?

But Hogwarts wasn't safe, in more ways than one, and I knew that.

My lungs were screaming with demand, pulling all my thoughts to the one thing that had my body wanted to forget. My head and ears pulsed, beating with the frantic slowing rhythm of my heart.

Just as suddenly as my panic had come, Sirius pulled me up, and we surfaced, banging our heads against something cold and hard. I gasped in shock as my head felt like it was splitting in two, and realized in a sort of dazed pain that air rocketed to my lungs filling my blood and supplying my heart. I heard Sirius breathing deeply too.

"What—?" I didn't have the strength to continue and finished lamely, lack of oxygen made my body feel heavy and weak.

Sirius coughed, relighting his wand and holding it above the water. I couldn't comprehend what had happened. Where were we? I swore there had been nothing but a underwater subway tunnel, nothing but rock and water in all directions and suddenly there was air?

In the light I could see the slick dark rock where we had cracked our skulls. It was only inches above my head and I had to slink deeper in the icy water in order to provide more space between the solid surface. This entire tunnel looked as if it had been carved right out of a stone mountain.

"There's been an air pocket since the beginning, you know, trapped air. I thought you knew. I've been coming up here about every ten seconds. How did you not notice that—" He stopped, his brow furrowed he turned to me, green and black shadows spread across the hollows of his features. "–how did you not BREATH this entire time?"

"There was an air pocket this entire time?" Sirius choked on some cold water and squirted it out though his mouth.

"—yes" I was silent. I felt embarrassed for the first time since I remember. "I reckon this is where it stops though," He said uneasily, still watching me intensely his shadowed eyes shinning in the reflected light of his wand off the water, like glinting mirrors casting back thick plates of opalescent light. "It's been sloping off for a while…" Sirius trailed off, unsure of how to continue, or if I even understood. Our breathing echoed mutely off the rugged stone above us, between icy water and the blackness of rock. Sirius held his wand underwater now; the light was too harsh in this small of area. I could see the end of this rare and certainly lucky air pocket; the rock sloped and disappeared beneath the dark shimmering water. It held a lurid finality about it, that end was so absolute so clean and unconditional.

I was almost tempted to suggest turning back, to just paddle our ways back to the Well in the comfort of breathing. But I didn't, because I was both a coward and a fool. A coward because I didn't have the courage to go back to that place—to stay with this unsettling boy—and a fool because I was certainly pressing death with this next excursion. But did it really matter? Death seemed so trivial, so feebly unannounced and tiring. I was sick of thinking about death when I knew I would never take my own life, not because I hadn't thought about it, or because I was tempted, but because I wouldn't, and I knew that because I had witnessed it. In my dreams too. The ones that were not full of such intense pain and agony they forced me to vomit…

The air was stale and acrid, as if we were breathing in vapors of something molding and dying. I had been so busy with the beauty of air's sudden reappearance, that I had withdrawn my other senses in the bliss. Now, this awful thick smell was lingering on my tongue and filling my head with a hive of bees, my skull thundered with dizziness, and spun like a spindle.

A hand reached out in the cold and held my shoulders, Sirius's other limbs worked more furiously to keep afloat now that his hands were preoccupied.

"Are you alright?" The concern was deeper than the water hellhole we so ungracefully landed in, and it disturbed me. The warm, hypnotizing tingles rippled through my muscles, loosening my stiffness and alertness. This feeling was so wonderful. This feeling only his touch pulsed through me was like a slow cool smooth symphony, floating and swirling inside the hollows of my body.

I let my eyes close for a moment, relishing in this bliss for a moment, letting my mind take me someplace wonderful and beautiful—something I didn't deserve but wanted none the less.

Oh, the greed of the human heart…but I could wish, however fertile and worthless it was. Wish was too soft of a word to ever get anything it wanted. Wispy and pale. Useless.

He's touching you, that filthy blood traitor is touching you... Make him pay…kill him…drown him like I know you want to…

For a moment, because I was so unsuspecting and vulnerable, I felt that volatile, violent anger rise in me at Sirius. I felt the intense wicked hunger to push his arrogant face under the water's unforgiving surface, to fill his lungs with ice and watch the life drag out of him slowly while he struggled. I imagined it, felt that evil malevolent need, but just as quickly as that thought suffocated my mind I knew I was not my thought, or my hatred—my need. It was His. And he was back.

For the last month Voldemort had been absent in my sad life beside the physical attacks and nightly dreams (which I tried to avoid for my life). He didn't try to force me to do his heinous crimes or speak to me. Mainly, I considered that he was otherwise occupied—busy with other horrible deeds. But now as that instinct to do his will rose in me, I found it unsettlingly harder than I expected.

I pushed Sirius's hand off my shoulder; it no longer held any comfort. My jaw clenched and my concentration was easier broken when half was used keeping my led filled body above the water. I pushed His violent thoughts out of my head, as he struggled and thrashed—causing immense pain—cursing me in his silky, calm threatening sneer. Snake-like. I shivered violently, and the small scar-like mark on the delicate skin under my wrist burned like acid. I lifted my arm to look at it, the small pale straight and curved lines just beneath the first layer of skin, when I looked I felt it would be appropriate to find the mark glowing red with the Dark Lords anger. But they were silent in his fury; they were still ominous and threatening nonetheless.

Sirius was watching me, the need to hurt him no longer burned, and I felt shamed that I had so easily forgotten whose thoughts were mine, and which were obviously not.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly, an edge of distressed curiosity laced his voice. He still held out a tanned arm, holding the light above the surface again. "Why do you have TMR on your arm?" He asked surprised, finally catching a glance at where my stare was directed.

The question caught me off guard. The blemish on my wrist had always just seemed like a scar, a miscellaneous mark that burned at odd moments; I had never thought of it as a symbol. For the life of me, I could not think of anything with the initials TMR, if it indeed did represent initials.

The thought scared me; it shocked and tumbled my insides to know that someone, somewhere had marked me as their own. Someone had claimed me as an object of their possession, and had no qualms carving their name into my flesh; no guilt in hurting me, as if I were not even alive or feeling.

Sirius was watching me closely now as I stared at the milky letters with a disturbed horror etched across my shadowed face. I could see the curved characters on the delicate inside skin of my wrist and tried not to notice how obvious it was that they were letters.

I shoved my hand under the water and looked back to meet the dark boys eyes.

"Its nothing, really. Er…the—the professors' lounge is towards the center of Hogwarts. I expect that this…tunnel is leading towards the lake. How far do you think we've gone so far?" Distract him. Distract myself.

A cold chill washed through me as I thought of my hand beneath the waters surface—a hand that no longer seemed belong to me—and the glacial coolness did not seem to only come from the winter water.

Sirius eyed me cautiously. This dark haired boy seemed much too attuned into my facial expressions; too sensitive to my moods and feelings. It was unsettling how he just…knew. I didn't like it. It was frightening in a delicious and obnoxious way. But he also seemed to know I would not answer if he asked the question than was burning the tip of his tongue.

His face slumped into a tired, weary expression as he considered my question in a resigned way, as if he something was troubling him, and sitting in his head like a giant hippogriff blocking his thoughts.

The musty air in the small stone pocket was making my head spin as I waited for Sirius to answer; the smell upset my nose and eyes. From the light of the wand I could see tiny streams of water trickle out of pencil thin cracks in the black moist rock above, and hear the crisp icy water slapping against the stone where it slopped into the dark underwater world and disappeared.

"I think we've got a ways to go." Sirius sighed. "Rest up here, and take some big breathes. I don't think we'll taste air for a while…" His voice seemed abandoned, and sad, as if some gloomy prophecy was about to take place. And it probably was.

The thick oppressive black water pressed around me like an unsettling fog of darkness. Only the small ring of light provided by Sirius was being seen by us. Everything else was a mystery. My heart hammered against its ivory cage, rattling my ribs in an uncomfortable vibration. A pulse thudded against my temple as a hammer would a nail. The need to breathe was not demanding, but it was there. Lurking in the shadows of my mind. I tried to push the panic out of my mind, and instead focused of calculating the distance we had gone.

Surely we must have spent hours under the ice, but a small rational part of me reminded of mere minutes. Above, where our light saw the stone, I could feel the steady slope downward and it made my heart rise with fear.

For the first time I let my thoughts swirl with the unspeakable. What if? What if, as we swam like trapped guppies, we hit a wall—a dead end in the truest sense? We would die, drown. Our lungs would ache and collapse. In a desperate hope we would gulp in water as substitute, but instead be met with more pain. In our last moments of life, we would look at each other from beneath the surface of this alien world and hate the person staring back because somehow it was their fault, not our own. Because fear becomes hatred…

We were heading deeper and deeper down into the earth. This dreary tube lead on forever, to the point where Sirius would, with a flick of his wand, throw a dazzling ball of light ahead in a vain attempt to see the end. My arms and legs ached from movement; my muscles trembled from lack of sleep, nourishment and too much exertion. But I pressed on, more for the idea of trying than actual want myself. I wanted to want to live, but could only force myself to look like I wanted to live. Only skin deep. Just like the rest of me. Lies upon lies, even to myself I lied.

The cold seemed to lick across my skin and numb my body in uncomfortable tingles. My fingers became harder to move now. They refused to do as I asked.

I was so caught up in the miserable ramblings of my own mind I didn't notice Sirius struggling.

He was falling farther and farther behind to the point the light was so miniscule for me, I stopped to motion for him to relight it. Sirius was moving franticly, he grabbed his throat with his free hand to relay he needed air. I paused, not knowing what to do, what to act on, before I yanked him forward, wrenching his wand out of his grasp and for a moment my mind blinked red with my obvious stupidness.

Of course there were many ways to move faster with a wand.

I wasn't allowed to dwell on this for the urgency of his need. If you have never actually contemplated or been moments away from drowning, you will never understand the sudden pressure of the water as it pushes down on you, almost as if knowing you have no choice but to fill your lungs with the murderous substance in mere minutes. Sirius was glancing around furtively, searching for escape, for the sweet bliss we so often take advantage of.

I plunged the wand forward, my movement dragged exaggeratingly in the thick water, and the word came out as little desperate dancing bubbles. In moments we were speeding through the water, almost as if a motorboat was pulling us. We dragged, holding on to the slim stick that was our only escape. Sirius's body was jerking, I could feel his chest heaving as he denied his lungs air again.

The adrenaline rush quickened my own necessity. Suddenly I could feel that panic waking inside me, my heart thumping so hard I was sure the students in the castle above would be pressing their ears to the floor, wondering what that sound was. That sound was my life. That sound was me dying, Sirius dying. Did they know that?

The water no longer seemed significant. It didn't matter if I inhaled it, as long as I got to inhale. The urge to open my mouth and gulp was louder than my heart. It was a constant begging voice that reasoned there might be some chance that the water wouldn't kill me.

And then there was the end. The literal end, not figurative. The tunnel rounded off, and opened to another underwater world. The dim opalescent bars of moonlight beamed down into the even the deepest depths of the lake. The water was no longer pitch black; the pearly underworld was so magnificent—so magnificent that we had escaped—that Sirius gasped in surprise.

And it was over.

He had inhaled.

He had let go.

Immediately his body jerked, his mouth opened and closed as he tore away form me. Sirius's eyes widened in shock, in pain, in surprise and agony. Water rushed to kill his lungs, to deny him life. Again his body jerked and scrambled, but his arms were falling limp as his chest convulsed, trying to take back what it had done—to somehow chough that water back up. His hands clawed desperately at his throat, he turned to me in torment pleading with his eyes.

Eyelids drooped, his body fell limp...then sprouted energy and he jerked his eyes open. Then limp and heavy again in a sort of horrible, ghostly drift through the moon streamed water of the black lake.

The water was eerily quiet, and I watched in o sort of terrorized panic. I wanted to do so many things at once, my body just didn't move. My own body and pain was forgotten. The surface glittered nearly one hundred feet up in a menacing innocence. The wand was forgotten, the wood disappeared like drift wood in the depths of darkness bellow.

I shook him franticly, my eyes popping as I suppressed the agonizing scream that threatened to claw its way out of my throat. I wanted him to stop joking. To spring his eyes open and plant another sloppy kiss on my surprised lips and laugh as he had last time he feigned being hurt. I wanted to hit him—to tell him to get up. Get up. GET UP.

Only when he started sinking did the full impact hit me. I felt as if I had been run over by a rolling giant bolder, stamped of hippogriffs, sliced in half, hit in the solar plexus and hurt, oh so painful—the feelings that crashed down.

But it couldn't be. Not Sirius. No. He wasn't dead. Couldn't be. All I needed to do was get him to the surface—yes—then he would wake up. He would breath in and be fine. Completely okay. Yes, Yes…

…please…

I reached and yanked his limp arm, and heaved his body with me. The weight was massive, and as I scrabbled, panicked through the water a heaving sense of dread filled my ears, lungs, heart, head in a rush of unwanted cold.

Sirius's body was heavy like cement, and the water seemed to be hardening around me, as if this entire murky world would solidify at any moment. His dark hair billowed in the water like a smoke signal. He no longer moved. His face was relaxed—lifeless. The panic rose in me like a tidal wave. If I had not been underwater where my mouth would do best shut, I would collapse into sobs.

Having someone die in your arms is worse than a thousand deaths.

I dragged both our bodies upward, the silence screamed at me to keep moving. My lungs heaved as I thought of all that wondrous air above the surface. Sirius was like dragging lead, his body wanted to stay in the water, wanted to sink.

A timeless amount of space flowed across my body as the silence ate at my ears and the water teased my body. My pulse was thundering, I could actually feel my blood slowing like paste. Fresh tingles erupted in my head, as if moths were chewing on my brain. I could see black patches in my vision, and my head lolled for a moment…

But the weight reminded me of his life. More precious than mine would ever be.

And we broke the surface.

Rain thundered down in sheets of glass, the sky flashed with cracks of light and booms echoed over the valley. There seemed to be more water above the surface than under. I gasped for air and pulled Sirius up, begging him to breathe, but his body lay silent and still. A torture beyond belief. My body felt weak, my vision blurred red as I wished to slink back under the surface to just sleep…

But as Sirius's body threatened to sink with me, I couldn't allow that wish. Tears stung my eyes from the pain, the exhaustion the emotional panic and shock and wreckage I had endured in such a short time. Water filled my world with sadness.

Many times, as I dragged both our dead bodies through the choppy terrible water that had seemed to peaceful from bellow, I had to hold Sirius above myself as I coughed and choked on water beneath him. I had never swallowed so much water. I had never felt so lost and panicked. I swam until I nearly drowned several times, almost coughed up my own organs, lost my legs from numbness and exhaustion and until, finally, I hit land blindly in the dark. And never had I felt such relief.

There was no sand on this bank, only mud. I could only manage to pull us out of the water mere feet. Only half of each of us extended from the sweeping tide.

I wanted to collapse. To sleep, and be done. To never wake up. But Sirius lay there, face up on the ground, his back sinking into the mud, and he had still not breathed.

It had to have been a half hour since that horrible unspeakable moment underwater. Another coughing fit surged over my ribs, my muscled tightened as I puked on the bank, the bile rose in my throat again, burning, and spilled through my mouth. I choked and sobbed; my vision was obstructed with horrible silver blotches. I turned and tore at Sirius's corpse blindly—searching desperately through my occasional convulsions for a pulse. My arms were shaking so badly I could hardly maneuver them properly. Another sob wracked my chest, and fresh tears cracked down my cheeks.

His pulse was quiet, his body cold. I gasped for air and hiccupped pathetically. Not necessarily for Sirius's death, but for the death of a life in general. I was the one that deserved to die, not anyone else. I should be dead. Not Sirius, who still had a life ahead of him.

There was no wonderful swish of colors, no vivid, beautiful feelings that washed through me when I touched his hard, cold body. There was no relief, and no delicious tingles—it was blank, nothing. And that is what set his death in stone.

His hair was matted and layered with dirt and sand, his closed eyelids were bruised purple and shiny, his lips swollen blue and face a pasty sickly white. His forearms and hands looked like cold, carved marble—lifeless and inanimate. His clothes were wet, and they clung rumpled and creased, covered with specks of dirt and pond scum to his body. Sirius's dark black hair no longer had the movement of smoke, it was slicked back and flattened against his forehead, neck and ground. The rain pounded down in long roars, and little rivers flowed in streams down his collarbone and neck, running like tears down the plates of his cheekbones and pale face. His feathered eyelashes clumped and wet, clung to tiny droplets that balanced upon the fanned tips until the rush of the tiny stream over the curve of his nose dragged them down too.

Everything was numb. Blank and cold. There was a thick blanket of gloomy fog that harshened the darkness of night. I sat on my knees in the downpour staring immobilized at Sirius's dead body. And then after an incomparable amount of time and space, collapsed on his lifeless corpse. It held none of the comfort or safety it did before, none of the warmth and soundness. My hands held tightly to fabric of his clothing, hoping that maybe if I clung on long enough he wouldn't actually leave. Staring blankly through the rain, my eyes open and devoid, I wished so desperately that I was the one dead that I could almost feel death whispering in answer. I could almost feel it clawing at my tattered clothes, whispering harshly the deadly water was only feet away…

I hated myself so thoroughly at that moment that death would be to easy, less painless than this misery. Sirius should be alive. Tears followed thicker down my the curve of my features and joined the rain in its decent towards the ground.

Sirius should be living.

He should be alive, not me. Sirius should be alive…he's dead, he's dead…My life is useless, why am I alive?...Sirius should be alive, he's dead.

I choked back another wrenching sob. I'd give anything for him to be alive. Anything at this moment to see his face crinkle into another wicked smirk or goofy grin. I pushed off and looked down on him again. My eyes stung again, and my throat burned.

Something squirmed in my stomach, a slow dragging feeling, and I broke into another sob as Sirius remained motionless. Dead. It felt like my insides were unraveling, something rose in my chest, pulling upward through my throat. I kneeled over ready to vomit again.

Tears ran down my face and were lost in the rain, in the pain, in his death. I would give anything to let him live. For him to be alive again.

Bile never flowed through my mouth, I waited, feeling the uncomfortable rise, that unraveling, draining feeling continued.

Sirius remained motionless. His death screamed in my ears and eyes, roared through my insides and swept away like the water that killed him leaving me feeling hallow and empty.

Something was wrong, this unraveling, squirming feeling felt like I myself was unraveling. As if someone was stealing my life away as if sucking it through a straw. A warmth rose in my throat, so unlike vomit, I opened my mouth bending in the sand, waiting. The rain pounded harder, drenching me completely, the blackness of night consumed me.

Sirius would never be alive again. Never. He would never tease hopeless fourth years…or harass the caretaker…play jokes and pranks…get detentions with James or laugh with his friends…He would never get to become an Auror like he so wanted to…or deserve another patronizing look from McGonagall…never duel in the hallways…or play quidditch for Gryffindor again…

A golden thread flowered from my lips; it swirled in the air like a yellow drop of food coloring in water. A single stand of gold swished in the air, as if deciding where to go next. My body continued to unravel. I felt weaker, like this golden thread was pulling the life out of me.

Life Sirius no longer had. I tried to remember what he looked like alive and well. What, only and hour ago, he looked like with a living body, a smile despite the circumstances…but the image of his dirty, cold, pale dead body obstructed any memory.

The thread illuminated the night, the fog, and the suppression. It had a life of its own—a life it was stealing from me. This strand plunged, diving, slicing through the fog. It dragged more life out of my, unraveled, stole. I didn't care. I felt like sleeping. Falling… The gold vein twirled upward and then like shimmering fire, dove down again and plunged straight into Sirius's chest. For a moment an inward light illuminated his entire body, then everything fell dark again like the moment the sun disappears behind a cloud. I felt my shoulder slump and collide with the cold wet ground and then unconsciousness pressed on all side and I was gone.


	10. Bound

The day dawned crisp and clear, with no sign of any thunderstorm from the previous night. The sun had just peaked over the mountains when in London, Hogwarts Express trudged merrily down the tracks emitting long black cotton balls of smoke while its engine red paint glittered in the pale mourning sun. Students packed and gloomy in the compartments bid goodbye to the last of their short vacation and in their sorrow turned to the sweet trolley to drown their misery. First years, proud to be on the train returning to Hogwarts for the _second_ time proved to all the others with gleaming pleasure that they knew which compartments were safe, and that some treats upon the food cart tended to make mad dashes for escape at various moments.

Back at Hogwarts, the house elves busily prepared the evening feast, pleased to finally have a grand crowd of students back at the castle to cook their delicious meals for. Filtch and his red-eyed cat, Mrs. Norris, stomped the hallways morosely, bidding farewell to the relative quiet and somewhat clean corridors. Peeves was withdrawal and planning his welcome back disturbance for the returning students, which so far consisted of unscrewing the chandelier before the entrance hall and letting it fall upon all the unsuspecting children below, but he was determined to make it even better.

On the opposite end of the castle, up two flights of stone moving stairs, McGonagall had her dark hair pinned in her usual skin slicked bun and was pacing the length of her neat office, pondering the reason why two Hogwarts students had not returned to the Gryffindor common room the following night. And now, well into the afternoon, had still not returned. And then, with a new resolve, purposeful walk, and grim expression etched across her stern features, she set off down the hall to report this odd occurrence to the Headmaster.

Outside of the dim Hogwarts castle and into the pale almost-winter sun, over the green soggy hills and past the giant boulders that leaned ominously against the back of the school, beyond the beech tree by the shore of the water, and across the murky, inky black lake on the opposite shore, in the shade of a large dark spidery tree, Sirius Black opened his eyes to the insistent protruding sounds of life.

Although the sunshine this cold afternoon was weak and almost invisible, he had to blink twice and close his eyes again against the brightness of his surroundings. It was as if he had emerged from darkness for the first time in years, and his eyes watered as they adjusted to the bright, yet foggy sky and sun. The shade of a large and towering forest green tree helped his eyes immensely and in the sunless spot, he could see his breath as it emerged from his mouth in swirls of steam. Above him, on a long hanging branch, two birds twittered excitedly and then dashed off into the safety of a new tree, beating their wings in quick, little strokes. A light yet chilling wind stirred his surroundings and he propped his stiff body up on his elbows, as they sunk further into the mud, still laying upon his back. The lake reflected the perfect Hogwarts school castle like a quivering mirror and the sky was bleak and grey. Around him, the ground was moist and cold; the mud had clung to his pants and smeared across his exposed abdomen. From his knees down, the water of the lake drifted up and rewet his destroyed pants, then swept slowly back out again, lapping at his calves in a lazy pattern.

The past night was foggy and unclear, and he struggled to remember the whole. He could recall the entire horrible excursion up until the moment they had emerged from the dark underwater tunnel into the extensive subsurface world of the lake—then, everything was mysteriously blank.

With a sudden jolt of intense panic he swiftly scanned his surroundings for the beautiful girl he had spent most his previous night with, (yet not in the way he planned) and found her a little ways away, slumped on the side of shoulder with her back facing him covered in smears of dirt and mud. Relief swept through him as he stiffly sat up and moved towards her across the wet muddy ground. Kira Thornhill's dark hair was damp and yet still in perfect loose curls that were clinging to her back and the ground. He legs bent under her as if she had curled up in a weak attempt to keep herself relatively warm. His stomached dropped as another idea rushed through his veins, and he knelt by her wet cold body and pressed two fingers where her jaw met her neck and tried to find her pulse with a deepening sense of horrifyingly intense despair. After a few gut reaching seconds he could feel the weak dull pump of her heartbeat, and another wash of sweet relief swept through him.

He bent over her small body, and finally glimpsed her pretty features, still beautiful even though dark bruise-like shadows fanned beneath her eyes, and her skin was sickly pale, and slender flawless lips a shade of grey blue. Her eyelashes feathered out and tiny diamond drops clung to them like shinning globes.

Sirius slowly lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, feeling for warmth—for any sign of life other than a weak pulse. Her placid flawless skin was as icy and unfeeling as stone, but at his touch she stirred fragilely, turning her head towards him weakly, as if searching, but she remained unconscious and unmoving once again. His left forearm gave a dull aching thud, and he rubbed it absently, trying to plan the most efficient and least awakening way in which he could carry her.

Slowly, trying not to wake her, he scooped her up, his first arm wrapped around her torso holding her up, and his other in the crook of her knees supporting her legs. Kira's small winsome face lulled against his chest as he lifted them both across the hills, over an oversized outcropping rock, around the lake, across the large stone bridge and finally into the front entrance of Hogwarts.

Sirius paused just inside the impressive doorway, unsure of where to go. The hospital wing, or the common room? Nothing seemed to be wrong with her, and he knew she would hack out his throat if he took her to the hospital wing even with an actual decent injury. With another hesitant step, he began the tremendous journey to the Gryffindor tower, which was a rather extensive climb.

Sirius watched the unconscious girl in his arms closely, her neck stretched as her head lolled over the hook in his arm, swinging with each step, her body limp and completely lifeless in his arms. He paused, mid-step up the third to last staircase, and second-guessed his decision against the hospital.

Her hair was still swaying slightly from the movement, her eyes lightly shut, and lips slightly parted. The only thing that was relatively comforting about her appearance was that her lips where no longer blue, and her naturally golden skin seemed to glow again.

Slightly encouraged, Sirius shook his damp hair out of his eyes and continued up the stairs, her empty weight barely registering in his mind.

"Oi! Black! How was your Holid—" The voice stopped short and a tall boy with mousy brown hair known as Frank Longbottom had stopped walking and was gapping at Sirius and the unconscious beautiful girl. The other boy beside Frank stopped in his tracks also, but Sirius now determined to get the least amount of publicity kept walking in quick efficient strides. The boys stared frozen in the hall as he passed them, not granting a glance. Sirius needed to get her to the common room, to her bed, where she could sleep. He could not explain how he knew that she needed sleep—that it was not anything serious that was making her unconscious—he just…_knew._ There was no other way to describe it. He also suddenly was aware that she was barely on the tips of sleep without looking down at her or feeling her stirring in his arms. Again, he just _knew. _He could feel a stutter, almost like a second smaller heart beat just beneath his own, then the other beat reunited beats with his heart, and he could not longer feel the pull of the other heart.

Kira had jumped in his arms, just a little jerk, as if she had woken from a falling dream. Her bewildered expression showed she was greatly overwhelmed, weak, tired, overrun…

She leapt from his arms, stumbling and falling on the floor. He could feel the second beat flutter like a scared rabbit, it was beating faster, but his own heart stayed the same steady pace—well maybe it stuttered a little when he saw once again how beautiful the dark girl in front of him was…

"You're alive." She choked, looking as if she were about to throw-up. Tears of frustration, of relief and of horrible bewildered fear and confusion swelled in her eyes, magnifying their beauty. "You were dead, you—you drowned…" She was talking incoherently, no longer facing him, stumbling in confused circles in the empty hallway. "There was so much water…so much darkness, so cold…it hurt so much…" She abruptly turned back to face Sirius, although he got the feeling she was not in her right mind at the moment. "Why did you give up? Why did you do that to me?" Her eyes unexpectedly shown with emotion and her face crumpled in a sort of hurt agony. She buried her face in her hands and shook her head, a dry sob cracked through her body and then abruptly, as if her emotions had been sucked out of her she stopped. Her dark blue eyes were wide and fearful, denying, as she stared at her forearm with a mounting panic. "Oh, no. No, no, no. This cant be happening" she whispered, shaking her head violently, as if she wanted to step away from her own arm.

She jerked her other arm up so violently he thought she might hurt herself and examined her wrist, the wrist with the TMR scarred into her skin. Her eyes widened in shock, and fear.

"No, no. This cant be happening, no. I didn't mean too, I didn't want too…" She checked her other arm again looking between the two with such a bewildered intense panic Sirius thought she might fling herself from the railing. He stepped forward, dripping more mud on the floors as he did so, trying to corner her—to force her to tell him what was wrong. His motion brought Kira's attention back on him, her pretty eyes shown with regret, with fear. "I didn't mean to," She said, directly to him, in an unusual plea, "Im sorry, Im so sorry. I didnt mean to! You died! I didn't even know what was going on…I threw up blood…the water was so cold…my lungs hurt. You drowned…you swallowed the water, we were too far under…we couldn't get to the surface. You wouldn't breath….there was lightning and rain…so much rain. It was dark, I didn't know where to go…there was only water…" She choked again, and then for the first time looked up with clear eyes at Sirius's face, at his confused and pitying expression, and immediately sobered. Her eyes became hard and icy again, her posture composed.

"You died, Sirius." She stated with such an impassive expression that Sirius believed it for a moment until it registered what she had said. He smiled consoling.

"Its okay Kira, lets get you to the common room." He tried to usher down the hall, but she bristled and jerked away from him.

"Do you have any idea what's happened? Any clue of how much danger you're in right now? He could find out at this very moment. Its only a matter of time before he feels the bond, the weakening of his own." She snarled heatedly, her beautiful face twisted into an expression of anger, of hardened frustration. She shoved her wrist in his face, the one she had been staring at with horror. There was a blackened patch on her wrist, it was moving. Like boiling ink bubbling beneath the thin skin there. It was manifesting, going together…becoming darker…moving to form something… "Do you have any idea what this is?" She stabbed a finger at her black wrist, "This is our _death sentence_. Both you and me will not survive much longer, Sirius, do you _understand_ that? This is not a fucking joke, were both as good as dead now." She picked up his own arm and tossed it at his face, then turned and stormed off.

Sirius stared at his forearm for a moment. Watching the same black fluid boil beneth his skin, creating an unknown pattern. Then he dashed off after her, finally alarmed. What was going on?

"_Wait—_" He growled catching up to her and spinning her around forcefully, the portrait hole was only feet away. He hissed and shrank back, glaring angrily at him. "What the hell is this? What does this mean?" He asked, jabbing a finger at the blackness on his arm.

"It means you died! You drowned, Sirius! _Died._ You had no pulse, heartbeat," She choked, and her face twisted in a memory of pain "you weren't breathing, or moving or warm any more—completely …_dead_." The entire common room full of wide-eyed Griffindor's stared back at them through the portrait hole. Someone had swung it open and now the entire common room full of students freshly returning from a relaxing vacation had heard them.

McGonagall came bustling through the crowd and marched straight towards them. Her determined expression vanished as she took in their tattered muddy, wet, destroyed clothes, ratty hair, disastrous health, and horribly tired bodies.  "Dear Merlin! What has happened to you two! Where have you been, you've had all of us worried sick." Kira stared back at her with a hardened expression, expectant waiting. McGonagall's face was pinched in an upset, worried expression, and finally after determining what to do, said, "Headmasters office, NOW!" rather sharply.

And Kira shot Sirius one last withering glare before they set off down the hall with Professor McGonagall shooting questions at them pushing from behind.

The dark beautiful girl beside Sirius remained stonily silent. She had a wild look about her, hysterical, panicked and fearful, but with a determination Sirius knew well.

People gaped at them as they passed, McGonagall barked at them from behind, seeming more unsettled as they walked and she could not get them to tell her where they had been. Sirius had a feeling that Kira only remained quiet because she was thinking hard about something, but just incase Kira did not want McGonagall to know, he kept silent as well.

They walked down a flight of stairs and turned sharply to the left. A crowd of sixth year girls were happily reuniting, hugging and squealing, but when they saw Sirius they immediately blocked the hall as they bombarded him with welcomes, completely unaware of what they had been through. Soon enough they seemed to realize something was wrong. They all stopped chattering, oblivious to the Professors attempts to remove them.

"Sirius," Olivia Horn purred, as she stepped closer. "What is going on? What happened?" She said with a nasty sort of fake concern as she looked sideways at Kira and appraised her with dislike.

Sirius stepped away from her, and McGonagall took this time to shove them out of her way. "I am escorting Mister Black and Miss Thornhill to the Headmasters office, now if you will excuse us…" Olivia Horn glared at Kira for a long moment as they passed, and Sirius felt an anger rise within him. Kira on the other hand, seemed completely lost in thought.

As they walked the remaining way, Sirius watched the black ink boil under his skin, it ached dimly but was otherwise painless.

The Gargoyle Statue jumped aside at the password, and all three traipsed up the spiral staircase. "Enter" Sirius heard, as the professor knocked on the great wooden door.

McGonagall bustled in ahead and Sirius and Kira stepped in after her. He noticed with a stab in the stomach that Kira was drooping, she staggered and swayed for a moment, as if dizzy, then regained her posture and continued in.

Dumbledore, with his half moon glasses and long slivery hair peered at them at them from behind his silver trinket filled desk. Little gadgets swung and danced all over the room and Faux, the Great phoenix bird sat perched at Dumbledore's side. The portraits of past headmasters sat inanimately in their bleak frames, but now sat up a bit straighter.

"Albus, I have found them. They returned this evening in this state."

"Thank-you, Minerva. Please," He gestured at Kira and Sirius, "Sit down." Sirius sat immediately, but Kira stayed standing, hesitating.

"I think I should leave." She said finally, her face remained blank, and although she was looking in Dumbledore's direction, she was looking through him.

"Don't be silly, this concerns you as much as it does Sirius." McGonagall said sharply, from beside the desk.

"No, leave Hogwarts." Sirius jumped, the thought of her leaving hurt worse than he had imagined. It was a strange heat-wrenching grip that was entirely new. He could feel the second heart beat lurch at the thought, just like his own. Dumbledore appraised her impassively for a moment.

"And why do you think that is for the best?" He asked calmly, as Kira looked down and absently rubbed her forearm. Sirius's had begun to throb also. Then, with hesitated steps, she walked forward and held out her inky arm, the blackness beneath the skin pulsed and moved on its own accord. McGonagall gasped, but Dumbledore looked upon it calmly. Sirius could have sworn he saw the same bewildered shock and panic he had seen in Kira's eye, now mirrored in a flash of Dumbledore's. Finally after long strangled minutes, the headmaster looked up at Kira.

"Would you care to tell me who died?" He asked, calm as if asking the weather. Sirius gaped and stood, walking to Kira's side, where he felt he should be. He was not ready to accept that he had died, even as Kira had said it, and now Dumbledore. He was alive. Not dead. He couldn't have died.

The portraits shifted, interested in the conversation now. Sirius caught the eyes of his uncles portrait, and willed him not to go to his frame in Grimrauld Place to report this to his mother.

Kira did not answer.

"I think it would be best if I left." She stated again. "Surely you cant deny that now both Sirius and I are in great danger together, if the bond does grow any stronger."

"Actually Kira, the safest place both of you can be at the moment is together."

She stared at him for a moment, debating fiercely with her self. Frustration boiled within Sirius. Why would they not tell him what happened? What was going on? He felt left out when he had every right to know. Kira glanced at him sidelong, as if she could feel his anger.

"Does anybody want to tell me what's going on?" Sirius burst finally; both Kira and Dumbledore looked like they had expected this, and it made his frustration boil more.

The headmaster nodded, more to himself than anyone. "Yes, it is only fair that you know, Sirius, but I am afraid that this news will not settle lightly." He sighed, and suddenly Sirius's frustration washed away as Dumbledore looked unnaturally tired.

"But first, I must know who died"

"I did." Sirius felt himself say, and even as the words left his mouth he could fell the truth ringing within them.

"Yes, yes. And how?"

"He drowned, in the Black lake. There was a cabinet, that lead to another room. The only way out was another hole, and an underwater tunnel that lead to the lake." Kira spoke, and Dumbledore nodded as if he had expected this.

"And you Kira, do you remember what happened after Sirius died." The dark girl remained silent for a moment.

"Yes." She paused, "But I don't understand how I could have done it without knowing, or trying." Sirius again felt left out, and both seemed to sense it.

"Sirius," Dumbledore turned to him. "You are alive at this moment because someone was willing to give their own life for yours, even after you had died. Although Kira was unaware of it at the moment, in her grief she had wished so desperately that her own life had died instead of yours, that her soul felt it no longer belonged to her body." He paused, and Sirius felt warmth for the cold girl next to him he had never felt before.

"What does that mean?"

"It means," Dumbledore sighed, "That you two are bound. Your souls have tied, in order to keep you, Sirius, alive. Only the unselfish wish to sacrifice your own life can bring back another. You have part of Kira's soul within you, and in exchange, Kira has taken a damaged part of yours."

"Why is being bound so horrible, why—"

"Its not horrible, for anyone else." Kira said sharply. "But you have been unfortunate enough to be bound to me, which means you are connected with anything I feel, experience, encounter…" Sirius did not understand why this was such a tragedy. Did she not want him to experience what she felt, is that why she wanted to leave?

"Yes, both of you will be connected to an extreme extent, the bind has only freshly happened and yet I can tell it has already penetrated past the skin. May I asked what color the light was, Kira, when it left your body?"

"Gold." Dumbledore seemed taken aback by this, but recovered quickly.

"Gold? That is the purest and strongest bind. This explains quite a bit, but still not the advanced skin tie." He gestured towards their blackened forearms. Kira was silent, and Sirius was struggling with these words, trying to comprehend all of this without loosing any.

"There may have been blood." Kira said at last, her voice strained, as if this could not get any worse. Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, "But I am not sure." She looked at Sirius, who was trying to think of what blood could mean. "Show me your hand."

Sirius lifted both his palms, and she let out a low hiss at the sliced cut. He had cut the calloused pad of his hands holding that rusty chain in the Well, and wondered why this was so important. Kira raised her hands, and she too had several slices on her palms, and Sirius remembered that she also had to hold the broken chain while he dove in the water to look for an escape that would eventually kill him.

Dumbledore took a great breath.

"An exchange of blood, too. This must be the strongest bond I have ever witnessed." He said conversationally, nodding at the two students. Kira shook her head, looking angry.

"You're forgetting the complications."

"How can I have forgotten, when I do not know?" He asked calmly over his half moon spectacles.

"Because you do know, I was the one who did not. What is the Dark Lord's name, his real name? I seem to have lost my memories." She sneered, looking inflamed at the headmaster's coolness.

"I believe it was Tom Riddle, and why, may I ask, is this of importance?"

"And his middle name? What is his middle name?" She demanded, ignoring his inquiry.

"Marvolo, Marvolo was his middle name." She stared at him for a moment.

"You are the one, that convinced the ministry that I should come here, am I correct? They must have told of the strange letters marked on my wrist that were not quite scars, but something they had never seen before? They told you everything they knew about me, and although they may have remained ignorant, I'm positive that by now you have worked out the connection between your former student and me? How could you not? You know he speaks to me, talks to me and tries to force me into horrible things. He invades my sleep and causes so much pain that I forget I am alive, you must have thought it impossible at first, that he had some sort of power over me without actually being near, perhaps you thought I was one of his treasured objects that hold his life you have been searching endlessly for? But then you remembered that mark. Those letters you had overlooked as a possession claim. How long have you known that his initial carved into my arm is the connection between him and me? How long have I suffered without this information that could prove both dangerous to you and the school?"

Dumbledore remained silent for a long moment, watching the dark girl in front of him carefully. Sirius recalled those letters he had seen on her wrist, those seemingly innocent scars that almost glowed. Voldemort talks to her, he causes her pain, and makes even her dreams agonizing. Sirius was filled with such a rush of hatred for this horrible man that had killed so many.

"I have known, long enough. But, please forgive me that I thought you might already have too much to worry about. " Dumbledore said at last, hanging his head in a sad sorrow.

"Then If I do not underestimate you, this bind will hold great significance for both Sirius and me, and you will have known that from the moment you saw our ink?" She looked at him with a blazing passion, her eyes seemed to burn. " This isn't a game. He is going to be angry, undoubtedly he will feel the weakening of the connection, and will know that something has happened. He wants me back; you know that as much as I do. But he will not take me if I am bound to another. Therefore I am already dead, he will kill me. And If I die, so will Sirius. This is our death sentence." She paused, and then looked upon Dumbledore with an almost pleading look. "But if our bond is not yet complete, and I die, then Sirius will stay alive. I am dead either way…you must see the sense in this… it is the only way…."

Dumbledore immediately withdrew, his face hardened into stone. "I am not going to permit you to kill yourself. There are always options." She glared at him

"I do not need permission. I believe I still own myself, unless you have say otherwise."

"Kira, I agree that this is a serious situation, and I understand—"

"No you don't. You don't understand." She said fiercely. "People have gone mad under the Cruciatus curse, imagine what its like having every horrible curse swirling in your body. Imagine the amount of pain he is going to torture us with when he realizes he is loosing his control over me, imagine what its going to be like to want to die." She turned to Sirius, "Have you ever wished you wanted to die so badly that your willing to anything to get that wish?" She asked desperately, her stormy ocean eyes shinning with hopelessness. And Sirius could only think of what he would give up to keep her alive and happy.

"The connection between Voldemort and you will wear off with the presence of a new bind."

"Whose to say it will where off? How do you know his is not stronger than ours?"

"Voldemort's bind will not be stronger than the bond of pure selflessness and love. He does not understand the power of love."

"Love is nothing! It is weak! You're a fool if you believe that rubbish." Her voice cracked as it raised a pitch higher in her anger.

"I am confident that Voldemort will have lost his connection with you in three days, in the mean time I think it would be wise if you spent the next few days in the hospital wing—"

"So the other students wont hear us scream? Is that why?" Dumbledore shook his head sadly.

"No, only because I believe you will need constant supervision and care. I give my fullest faith in your words, Kira; I am not underestimating the difficulty you will both face. Undoubtedly it will be the worst, mot painful experience of your young lives, but I am also confident that both of you can withstand it, and I am not willing to let you take your life if there is the merest possibility for you to live, no matter how unpleasant. It will only be a matter of time before Lord Voldemort takes notice of this difference. I assume you have less than an hour, you may, if you like, return to the great hall and inform your friends of your whereabouts for the next three days, and collect whatever you might need from your dorms as long as you two stay together. Right now, your greatest advantage lies within your souls, together you will be stronger. I will ask Minerva to inform the staff of what has happened," He made a sweeping motion with his arm towards McGonagall, who Sirius had forgotten was there. "and if there are any attacks my advise it to stay with each other, no matter what. Sirius, I believe you will be the lucky one, as Kira will have to endure direct wrath, you will only have the mere undeveloped bond between Kira and yourself. Good luck to both of you, I will meet you in the hospital wing within twenty minutes."

And without another word, Kira was already walking out of the headmaster's office without a backwards glance, her pretty hair still damp and her clothes still covered with mud. Sirius hesitated, thinking about what had just happened, what was going to happen…

"It would do you best to follow her, however frustrated she may be at the moment." Dumbledore said kindly, smiling a short withered smile. "Kira Thornhill may seem troubled at times, but her heart is in the right place, as she has demonstrated today, and that is what matters and will protect you both for now."

'Sir?" Sirius hesitated, and Dumbledore looked at him expectantly. "She saved my life?"

"Ah, not quite. She brought you back to life, Sirius, there is quite a difference. I have not known any wizard willing or capable of bringing life back from death, it is much more difficult than merely saving one . She gave you part of her soul, in exchange for a dead part of yours. She is truly extraordinary; she just needs to be reminded. Now, I believe you have quite a run ahead of you. If I am correct, she moves considerably fast." Dumbledore smiled, as if this would not be the worst day of Sirius's life, as if Lord Voldemort was not going to torture Kira for saving his life, and as if he had not been bound to the most beautiful, amazing, depressed and angry girl Sirius had ever met. And he could not think of anybody more perfect than her.

And with another nod, Sirius dashed out of the office and ran down the hall, knowing Kira would be looking for Lily.

-----

Dumbledore was disturbingly correct, as he always was; Kira was extremely fast, and had managed to go down three flights of moving stairs and an enormous hallway before Sirius caught up with her.

She made no notice of him besides glancing at the dark haired boy sidelong, before returning to walk down another flight of stairs. Sirius hopped on the railing and slid down with easy elegance, waiting for her on the bottom, and Kira appraised him for a moment before pursing her lips and suddenly his pants were as clean as they where on the day he bought them, as he noticed now her clothes were too.

"You still have no shirt on," She stated coldly, then brushed past him towards the Great Hall doors, where most of Hogwarts was enjoying the welcoming feast.

Sirius looked down upon himself and realized that he was completely bare from hips up, and quickly took off the watch his brother had given him before Sirius had ran away—before his family hated him, and transfigured it into a black shirt. He only kept the watch because it reminded him of his family before, when his mother and father beamed with pride when they saw him, and his brother would look upon him with admiring eyes instead of loathing…

The Great Hall was its usual cheery self, with glittering candles and chattering students feasting on the mounds of delicious glistening food. Dumbledore was mysteriously already at the front, giving his end-of-feast speech. Sirius slipped through the doors right after Kira and caught the Headmasters eye briefly before heading towards the Gryffindor table where James sat chatting with a disgruntled Lily, and Remus was reading another oversized book, Erin and Erica where gossiping madly with Dona Dewberry, and Peter was stuffing his face as fast as he could. None of them, apparently listening to Dumbledore speak.

The silver haired wizard had just finished welcoming everyone back, and was now moving on to the topic of Wizarding School World Championship of Quidditch, when James's head snapped up and Sirius and Kira slipped into seats beside their friends. Lily beamed at Kira, but the dark haired girl did not smile back, and Lily's own smile quickly vanished honing in on her friend's distress.

James clapped Sirius on the back and grinned. "Hey mate, how was your break? Wish you came home with me, Mum was awful, all fussy and annoying you know?" Sirius laughed, thinking of Mrs. Potter constantly hovering over her son, buzzing about his hair and such, and abruptly wished that his mother was like that.

"Mine was alright." Sirius shoved his hair out of his face, and grinned sadly at James. "Gonna be spendin' the next couple days in the hospital wing, Prongs. Ive gotta be up there in ten." He started getting from his seat, watching as Kira had already started walking away back towards the doors. "Keep up the trouble without me, mate, Ill be expecting daily reports." Sirius tried for a grin but it faltered slightly.

"What's wrong with you?" James demanded and Remus was now watching too.

"What's wrong with Sirius?" Remus asked, closing his book and setting it next to his plate.

"Nothings wrong with me, look Ive got to go, but ask a teacher or something." He waved a hand casually, then hopped from the seat and jumped to follow Kira, who he could see was almost at the doors.

He watched her back as she suddenly froze in her tracks. Kira swirled around and he could see her eyes wide with fear. There was a dull roar in Sirius's head, like someone was screaming distantly, and his body reacted with a jerk. Everything was getting blurry, and suddenly there was pain, so much pain it overwhelmed him, and for a moment he staggered and his mind shut off. But that blackness was only a moment and then there was the rush of hot red agony again. Skin burning off, flesh being peeled from bones, heart being crushed, drowned by artic water, suffocated in misery, crushed by a truck, stampeded by bulls, stabbed by dull blades, poked by needles, eyes being gouged, ribs and bones being crushed, venom eating flesh, submerged in acid, engulfed in flames…but the worst pain was the almost reachable memory of something more, that something had to be done, that someone was counting on him. But it was lost in the tidal of agony and pain. He had never wanted to die like this, never wanted something so much in his life that was almost in reach but completely impossible.

In the distance he heard Kira screaming, and he remembered faintly through all this pain that she was suffering more than him. It didn't seem possible. His spine felt like it was breaking, blades shoved under his fingernails, and everything was hot and burning. His insides felt like they were housing magma, the heat was burning him…and he was lost in the flood of agony, and this time did not wake up.

Their screams were the most horrible tortured cries the world had ever heard. Their body arched and struggled with pain so immense that room could not house their suffering. It was agony watching them, their bodies squirm and cry. The dark haired girl sobbed incoherently, and her back arched as she screamed another heinous blood-cudleing shriek of pain. Her face contorted with agony, her eyes had not opened in days, but her screams never stopped. Sirius lay beside her on the hospital bed with the same expression. His chest heaved again and his body hunched and contorted as if he was being stretched and another remorseful agonizing cry escaped his chapped lips.

Madam Pomfrey rocked herself in the corner, sobbing disjointedly at the sound of their violent screams of pain, at their cries for release—anything to stop their pain. Her heart could take no longer, as could most of the others. Professor Dumbledore stayed by their sides for the better part of three days, he relieved Madam Pomfrey but she refused to leave in a rare gasp for air. The old wizard sat in a chair between their beds, looking upon them with a hollow blank expression that looked as if he would never smile happily again. Their screams had not ceased since their first day in the Great Hall, and their violent thrashing had not either. Lily Evans, Remus Lupin and James Potter had visited regularly, but it seemed each visit would suck all the warmth from their bodies, until on the third day they all looked as if they might never leave this sorrowful expression. No one exchanged pleasantries, and Lily broke down into hysterical tears again until James had to carry her out with his own tears silently dripping on the girls red hair. Remus stayed a moment afterwards, and crouched on the floor, burying his face in his hands and heaving a dry sob as Kira begged to be put to death.

No one smiled in all of Hogwarts, and their screams filled every hallway with an agonizing reminder. Classes were excused, but few were happy about that. No one could contain their misery, and some students forced themselves to sit by the door in the hospital wing to hear their screams, because they felt they owed Kira and Sirius at least that much. That their screams of pain reminded everyone of what suffering was being housed. The castle had never been so quiet and yet so deafening. Every color seemed to have drained from the walls and portraits, and thunder and rain pounded outside the school walls.

Hogwarts was filled with blank expressions, empty eyes and hallow hearts. It seemed that the whole castle was sleeping, distant, off in a world of dreams and hopes as protection of the despair that threatened to fill itself like black smoke into anyone who dared breathe it. It was not only that two fellow students were in so much agony it burned any eyes who let their vision be exposed, to tears, or the fact that for once, Dumbledore could only sit helplessly…no. It was that never had You-Know-Who ever been so real, so threatening. Nightmares disrupted the sleep of children; of this horrible malevolent creature who could no longer be accepted as human because of lengths he had gone to emerge himself in the starless darkness of such heinous evil magic.

It disturbed so many, because he had always been in newspapers not seen.

Because the stories were always recounted, not witnessed. Because the people who had been tortured or killed were unknowns, with unknown families. Because the grief after a loss was always the fault of a follower, not You-Know-Who himself. Because pain had always been cuts or broken bones. Because Hogwarts was always safe, they were supposed to be protected inside its walls.

Because Voldemort was torturing two friends, two people who were known, two children, inside this castle, without even being near them. Because it was finally real. There was no more denial. Voldemort was not going to end, his reign of terror had just begun, and only those who had come home from work, carrying their coats and whistling, walking into their neighborhood to find the sky darkened and the dark mark hanging in the sky above the house called home, would understand. Only those who had suffered loss, suffered pain, would know that these wounds would never heal.

Dumbledore stared at the tiny golden necklace around Kira's neck; the one he had given her over ten years ago, when he had visited her mother and father about the death threat placed upon their family. So brave Mrs. and Mr. Thornhill were, but careless, they were careless, and it was Kira who suffered. Dumbledore recalled her small face, glowing with beauty even then, at the age of five. He remembered the day so clearly, as if it had been yesterday…

But he could not reminisce right now. He had so many memories, yet the day he met the fiery girl now arched in agony would be permentently etched into his mind, because that little girl had been so warm, so innocent, so talented…Although she had grown more than a talent for magic, she seemed to live and breathe it, like a mutual allience, but her warmth had been hardened—her innocence cracked like a dusty mirror, and Dumbledore did not want to think of the horrible things she had seen, had endured and been forced to do, not knowing that there was a world on the other side of death misery and pain.

Again the locket flashed across his eyes, the gold of the round heart shaped pendent fluttered again. No one else was in the room except for Madam Pomfrey, who was now more useful once Kira and Sirius' screams had dived to whimpers and their bodies only contracted violently in intervals. Dumbledore knew that the window between the Dark Lord and Kira Thornhill was closing, it would only be a matter of time until they were released. He thought of all the things Kira would be able to do now, things that should have never been stolen, like her mind and thoughts, dreams, sleep, nourishment, she would now be able to eat. Her frail body could not take much more neglect. And Sirius had given her freedom, in a sense, in exchange for the selfless act she had done for him.

The locket lifted, the little golden chain dangled from her neck, and the heart shaped medallion opened as if thrown apart. Dumbledore knew what this locket did, knew its secret. He had given it to her, after all. Sirius's name flickered like unstable light in the air above it in small intricate letters, like It was being cast into the atmosphere by a muggle projector. Then the name flickered feebly and went out, sucked back into the locket as the tiny golden doors slammed shut again. The pendant turned a deep shade of fiery red, as if hot, and sunk back to her neck as if nothing had happened.

And despite the circumstances, the elderly headmaster smiled, the students lay motionless for now, and the locket around Kira Thornhill's neck remained a glowing coal color against her throat, always stubborn that girl was, even in sleep.

The locket was a protettore, a rare magical object that protected people the wearer cared about. The names' within the locket will always be safe from give away. If an enemy is asking under force or imperious where a particular person is, the wearer of the locket is unable to tell them and violate the lockets safety contract, even under the most powerful magic. It is a lip sealer, but the owner of the locket must put the name in, or as the gold just demonstrated, the locket will put the name in itself until the person whose neck its wound realizes that they care about that name.

The locket would burn red until Kira realized that Sirius was part of her, but she was always a stubborn girl, it would take time.

And with the thought that Kira may have found someone worth her protection, someone who had broken her defenses, at her side, Dumbledore could only sit silently and wait for the two students to wake up from their last nightmare.

---

There had to be a way to let go. A way to die.

There had to be something inside a person that held body and soul together. Some handle or clasp or lock that could be turned or slid, releasing one from the other.

I was drowning in a sea of pain. Vicious red waters washed over me, dragging me under, tumbling along in their currents.

I felt a hand upon me, pulling me out of the ocean—out of the pain. Fingers at my wrist, warm and comforting. I heard a voice, a familiar distant voice. Why is she still here? What happened? Why am I no longer in pain if Kira is still? The spoken words traveled farther away until it was too much effort to make out the endless stream of demeands.

No, don't leave, I thought. Don't leave me.

"Release it…release me…please…." The words were barely a whisper, barely heard, barely worth the effort. The tide was pulling me deeper, dragging me under. The hot unforgiving waters pressed against me, whispering threats, breathing torment. Promising death.

And then the hand again, warm and strong, pressed against my heart. Again I was pulled from the lurking waters.

It was later, much later. Days later. Weeks. Or maybe it was only minutes, I didn't know.

I heard water still. Not the sea this time, but rain lashing against the window. I couldn't tell if it was real or in my head.

I opened my eyes. Everything was dark and blurry. A shadowed figure shifted. It was him. The face that I wanted, needed, but did not realize until this moment. Like a forgotten dream or lost hope.

"Where am I?" I asked. He needed to talk, I needed to hear it. His voice. It would keep me above the water, above the pain.

"In the hospital. You've been sleeping. Its still hurting isn't it? Do you still feel it?" His spoke, like a melody it swam through my body and parted the pain in a shimmering white light—and then it was gone. And my world was filled with the red sea again. Tormented waves lashed like whips across my already wounded body.

I tried to sit up, but the pain broke over me like a tidal wave, slamming me back against the bed as a tortured wretched cry dissolved the quiet.

"Don't do that," He said, his voice strained.

"What time is it?" A growl, barely words.

"Just after nine. Hold on, Kira, It will be over soon." An empty promise. Soon.

"Talk to you?" I grabbed his wrist, startled him. I hadn't wanted to do that. Frighten him. But I was afraid of myself. Terrified.

"Please," I choked out, deliriously. Forcefully. I tried to sit up again.

"Kira, lie down!"

"Will you stay?" Weak.

"Yes, of course. I was never going to leave you. Not in a million years. Lie down," I did.

"Tell me something," I said. "Anything. Just talk. Tell me about your family."

He laughed wearily; I closed my eyes again, focusing on keeping the tide at bay—That horrible sea away from me…

"My family is not very interesting. Are you sure? I want to keep you out of a coma, not put you in one." That was a lie, I could feel it in my bones, like a sensor went off. He just didn't want to tell me…

I nodded. "The talking…your voice…it takes my mind off the pain…" There was a worried pause,

"Is it that bad. Still? I stopped hurting hours ago…"

"Bleedin' horrible." There was a strained pause.

"Alright, but after I tell you my story, you have to tell me yours." This conversation was the only thing holding me above the hot red wave, his voice.

"I haven't got one." I managed to say, my fists curled around the sheets of my bed. The pain was rearing up, roaring through my body—if I opened my mouth I might have screamed…

"You have one." There was a tighter edge to his voice, he knew something I did not. "You just don't know it, but when you do, do you promise to tell me? Every last detail?" I nodded, I would have agreed to anything.

And then he was telling me what it meant to be a Black. What his family believed, and what he did not. He told me how it felt to be sixteen with no where to go, in the middle of London with no home, or family. He told me how James had found out—had offered him a place to stay. James' family was so nice; he liked the Potters, he wished his family were like that. He told me how him and James and Remus and Peter had met, on that first day, what Lily looked like then—how wild her hair was. He told me about being sorted into Gryffindor and the angry letters his family sent him, how when he got home for the holidays they would scream and kick him, lock him in his room. Countless pranks were always the answer. He told me about the first ones he did with James under his invisibility cloak, about the first time he successfully completed a spell and the first time he felt happy in a long time. And as his story continued it became more and more clear that the people who had disowned him, banished him from their heritage, were not his family at all. His family was here—at Hogwarts, with James and Remus and Peter. `

I knew that if he stopped talking the pain would return, simple and flat. I was barely treading along, barely keeping my head above the surface. I could slip back under so easily, and yet his voice, his words pulled me away—they pulled me back to reality, back to life.

I begged him to continue every time he stopped, every time he paused. My eyes closed, his voice washed over like a beautiful cool melody, the way he laughed at how smitten James was—is—over Lily, the foolish things he'd do. Sirius's laugh was rich and happy and real. It pulsed and vibrated with life, his face would grin and dimples would appear at the corners of his lips as he smiled at lost memories. And then slowly as the night wore on I could feel the sea receding, the pain diminishing. When he placed his hand on my arm absently, and finally there was nothing, I knew that it was over. It was gone. He was gone. And at last I was safe. I could live, breath and be, without torment.

And it was all thanks to Sirius. He had released me from a prison, and now I reigned free over my own body. Finally.


	11. Furry Friends

"Oh, Lily. You're being silly."

"I am _not_!" She cried indignantly. A week had gone by since the hospital, and I felt real and alive again, free. I could sing with joy, my heart was bursting with happiness. Our second Hogsmead trip was tomorrow, and as we headed back to the common room, Lily seemed just as happy as I was. "Please, Kira. It was so _obvious_! How could you be so blind!—_Mandrake."_ The portrait swung open and Sirius with James dashed in after us.

"What was obvious?" James asked, claiming a puffy red chair and sprawling out, running a hand through his hair. Sirius plopped down next to him and grinned. Lily dropped to the center couch and I followed, letting my bag slip to the floor.

"Kira got asked out today!" Lily sang, grinning shamelessly at me. "I told you! Everyone fancies you Kira! You're just so oblivious." She laughed freely at some thought.

"I am not oblivious." I said coolly, glancing at the window to find the sky raining again.

"Oh please! Every boy in this school is smitten over you." She grinned again, turning to Sirius and James. "Guess what happened in Ancient Runes today?" She laughed again, her red hair sparking gold in the amber glow of the common room.

"What?" Sirius and James gasped in a mocking way, holding their hands to their mouths in a dramatic dainty girly way and glanced at each other in mock apprehension. Lily rolled her eyes and ignored them. "Michael Jacobs—"

"The Ravenclaw quidditch captain?" They suddenly sat up straighter.

"_Yes_—as I was saying. He walked up to Kira in class and asked her if she wanted to go to Hogsmead, and she said—and I quote—'of course I want to go to Hogsmead, everyone in our year's going.' And then she turned back to writing notes. You guys should've seen his face. Oh, it was great." She sighed and sat back, a triumphant smile on her face. James and Sirius burst into peals of raucous laughter. Tumbling from their seats. I frowned.

"Oh, man, Kira! That's a classic." Sirius managed to gasp out in deep breaths. I crossed my arms.

"In my defense, he asked if I wanted to go—not if I wanted to go with _him_."

"But still! It was implied." I ignored their laughing and pulled out my DADA homework, determined to get all of my class work done before the weekend. Sirius perked up immediately, pulling himself in the seat beside me.

"Are you doing that Defense essay? Ill do it too." He leaned over my shoulder to get a better look at my paper, and I felt him relax beside me. The tingles that possessed me when our skin met were scarcer now, but instead there was a stronger feeling of completion—as if I had been waiting for my other half to return, as if I had been yearning—aching—to see him without even realizing how much pain I was in. When he sat near me I felt as if I could breathe freely, and relax finally.

But there was something deeper too. I could feel when he was angry, particularly sad or happy, even if hundreds of yards separated us. Sometimes I would be sitting in the library with Lily finishing Runes Homework and suddenly I would feel an intense wave of hatred for an unknown person I had never met in my life. Other times I would be sleeping, and my heart would start beating erratically as if I were running for my life. It was definitely one of the stranger things I had experienced, but the worst part was I knew that this new connection was mutual. I had cut myself in Potions, a small sliver cut diagonally across my thumb, and when I left the classroom I found Sirius waiting for me, the first sentence that left his lips was 'Where is it?' and then he grabbed my hand and pulled me to Padam Pomfrey who healed it in minutes. It was eerie and disturbing to know that my pain was his, and his mine. Our bond was already stronger than I had anticipated, our connection grew stronger with every moment I accepted it, and that could not happen. If our attachment became too intense, Sirius would stand no chance when I was killed, and he would die too. That was how it worked.

Sirius shifted beside me to pull the sleeve of his sweater up above his forearm, and I knew what he was looking for. He stretched out his bronzed arm to show the tattoo like ink printed on his skin. On it was an intricate black rose design with the name:

Kira Rose Thornhill,

intertwining the flower in knotted Celtic lettering. He rubbed it absently with two fingers, my middle name, rose, was only just starting to appear, and the word was slightly less prominent then the rest.

"So Rose is you middle name. That's why there's a rose." He grinned; as if this solved some mystery he had been working on for months. James came over to inspect the tattoo and Lily hopped up to follow.

"Sirius's is a dog on Kira's arm. I think its because of the star you were named after." Lily added smartly. "Has his middle name appeared on your arm too?" She turned to me, looking at the sleeve that covered my cloudy mark. This topic interested her immensely, and had taken to checking out numerous library books on the nature of Binds.

"I don't know, I haven't looked." They all looked at me expectantly and I realized that they wanted to see. Grudgingly I pulled the sleeve of my robes above the ink to reveal a the image of a dark dog howling at a tiny diamond star,

Sirius Orion Black,

wove around the symbol in the same style print. _Orion_ was slightly faded as if it had just appeared, but other wise the ink bind seemed complete.

The portrait hole opened and chatter echoed through the common room. Sirius and I in twin movements pulled down our sleeves and turned to see who had entered. Olivia Horn, Dona Dewberry, and Clavinet Morris toppled into the room. Olivia glared heatedly at Sirius, then turned her eyes to me before stomping up the stairs to the girls dormitory.

"What was that about?" Lily asked, looking startled, her petite features worried.

"Er—Sirius told her off the other day. She thinks its Thornhill's fault." James said with a chuckle.

"Told her off? That's a little harsh, isn't it? What did she do?" Lily asked, now looking slightly disapproving. Sirius shrugged.

"She was just bugging me—didn't want her lurking around me anymore. It was getting on my nerves." He pushed the hair out of his eyes and turned to me. "So how 'bout this essay, eh?"

"Please, you only want to do it with me so can cheat."

"Nah, Ill do it—promise. I just need guidance." He grinned cheekily at me and I turned to the large Gryffindor window and watched as the rain changed to hail outside.

---

I had never missed the sun more in my life. Coldness swept through the castle in icy drafts and scarves became a regular fashion statement. Outside snow salted the earth like powdered sugar and coated the tops of all the prickly forest trees in white dust. From the warmth of the Gryffindor common room it was easy to admire the angelic snowy landscape, but when the artic winds bit at my cheeks and whipped up my hair the pretty, serene terrain was forgotten.

Often I would sit at the window inside our red dormitory and look across the snowy earth, thinking about Voldemort and his followers, killers, murderers, dark magic and the evil of those people, and I would wonder how a beautiful world could be so ugly.

It was early December, and Sirius was becoming consistently harder to avoid. It physically ached being separated from him, and this was only the beginning of my worries. Not only did we share emotions, but also frequently when I was focusing on him I could suddenly view the world from his eyes. I would catch glimpses of him climbing the stairs, or of James laughing, of their mischievous expeditions and everything in between. And probably the worst concern by far was the simple fact any visions I witnessed, Sirius experienced too. Although the target of most of his complaints focused on the annoying factor that all the scenes were blurry for him, I was fretting over what he would see. The horrors I had viewed from the harrowing visions rotted my already decaying heart with the heinous things that I saw. And I did not want to share that with him. Pain and sadness was something I was selfish with. It was my private depression. I soaked up all the misery I could hold to keep the coldness away from the ones I cared for. But now there was a leak, and Sirius was experiencing the burden. And now it was unfair to avoid him, even if it meant his life.

Sirius was aware of the consequences of our bond. He was, after all, the only one I told about the vision of my own death, and the only person who would ever know. If I died, and our bond was any stronger, then he would perish too—experiencing the same pain I did…

Nahla, the unclaimed orange tabby, mewled from beside me, and I reached down absently to pet her shiny fur. She leapt up on top of my lap, making herself comfortable in the process. Nahla had remained ownerless even with the return of all Hogwarts students, and naturally she stayed by my side most evenings, as she did through out the holidays.

"Sorry, but I'm going to the common room. You picked an unfortunate time to plop your furry arse on my lap." I told her, and instantly her purring stopped, she opened one neon eye suspiciously. "That's right, off." The creamy orange cat, made an unattractive growl and stretched, glaring accusingly at me before climbing haughtily off my lap and onto the red four-poster bed of my dorm. After settling herself, she opened one eye again and watched me critically as I left the room and stepped down into the common room.

The Gryffindor common room was dark and the fireplace was barely lit, just red glowing logs, making the Gryffindor chairs look like hunch backed shadows. It was only nine, but most students were either up in the dorms doing homework or sleeping. Lily had perfects duty tonight and she patrolled the hallways with Remus until eleven. The twins were going to spend the night in Thallium's dorm even though it was technically a school night, because they were convinced that she had some juicy secret they could milk out of her by morning.

Still, several students sat in the corner of the cozy red and gold embellished room at the small round sitting tables chatting in the dull light. Two golden haired boys, who I had seen in a couple of my classes, and another boy with brown hair and a red jacket. Their voices dropped as I entered and took a seat on the squashy red sofa next to a large wooden bookshelf to stare at the dying fire. A tide of whispers washed and rippled over me, the boys obviously couldn't resist. They were probably talking about that article…

"Yeah, that's her. How could you not notice?..." Said one boy, and I tried my best to ignore them.

"Dunno, my mum says people should stay away from her, we don't know what she's done."

"Doesn't matter does it? I would of done _anything_ if You-Know-Who had pointed his finger at me and told me to, beside, she's practically a veela—look at her. How could anyone stay away from that?"

"Hey—have you guys heard anything about Sirius and her? Margaret was telling about that—I don't know—_weird_—thing that happened to them over break. Nobody knows what happened—except maybe Potter, but we all know his lips are sealed."

"I haven't heard anything. What did Margaret say?"

"Oh—something about how they were screaming rubbish at—"

They stopped talking and turned to the portrait hole where Sirius Black had just loped in, hands deep within his pockets, looking at his feet. I was immediately alert, ready to make a dash up to the dorms before he noticed me, but unfortunately he looked up and caught my eye, and before I could even push myself up off the sunken couch he had launched himself over me and plopped down unceremoniously with his head in my lap. He stretched over my legs, trapping me, and grinned lazily from his position, hands cradling the back of his head in a relaxed gesture. I stared down at him for a moment, completely shocked, an inward struggle already raging.

"James wanted me to tell you that he's making the whole team try out for Hogwarts' school team."

"Hogwarts' school team?" I asked absently, glancing at the dark gap where the girl's dormitory stairs were. It felt so right to be here with him, like melting, like I could finally relax and breathe, but how right could it be if I was endangering his life every moment I spent with him?

"Yeah," He ruffled his hair in my lap, swatting a stray strand of my smoky loose curls that hung down over his face. "You know, Hogwarts' team for the Wizarding School Quidditch Cup. It only happens once every ten years, this time it's in Romania. I heard its cold there." He looked up at me and smiled brilliantly. "You hate the cold, don't you?"

I didn't answer that; he knew I hated anything remotely chilly as much as I did. I didn't have anything to myself anymore.

"What if I don't want to try out? Do I look like I want to go to Romania? Besides, everyone would just stare and be irritating." I sighed, thinking about all those accusatory magazines publishing nasty, nice, and just plain bizarre things about me, regarding my 'imprisonment' (No one was entirely sure if I actually was a prisoner, which made me seem like such a _wonderfu_l person) with the most feared dark wizard in history.

"We both know everyone who writes anything about you is nutters. You're the only one who knows the truth and you can't even remember. They can't prove anything." I winced at the protectiveness in his voice and stared at the fire. I could feel the three boys in the corner eves dropping, but I wasn't in the mood to scare them off.

There was a pause, where he watched me carefully waiting for a reply. When I made no indication of a response, he sat up and repositioned himself so he was leaning against the armrest of the couch. Then, as an after thought, stretched his legs over my lap again so I couldn't escape easily.

"In the hospital wing, when I told you about my family, you promised to tell me your story." This barely irritated me, I felt slightly numb, besides the warmth radiating from Sirius' body, I felt almost cold—even in the warmth of the dying fire.

I stared intently at the glowing logs until they slowly burned and flourished into flames, then turned to Sirius again—he was watching the fire with an odd expression.

"I don't have one, I told you."

"—Yes but, tell me about after you escaped. From the first time you remember." He looked strangely understanding, and his eyes fell upon the small locket dangling against the hollow of my throat.

"I woke up in London." I told him, and his eyes slid from my neck to me face once again, then he grinned crookedly.

"I know that._ Elaborate_." He leaned back and scooted further down against the red sofa until I was no longer under his legs but his back, with his head propped up against the arm rest. He shoved his dark hair out of his eyes and smiled another sideways smile. "I'm looking for bed time story here, make it interesting."

"I'm not very interesting." I watched him cautiously in the dim light of the common room, hidden by lacy shadows.

He laughed freely, his entire face lighting up with the bubbling laughter that flowed from his lips.

"Kira, you're the most interesting person I know," He grinned, but this time there was a fleck of sadness, like a grain of pepper amongst a handful of crystal white sugar. Obviously my interesting factors were saddening at the same moment. "Just tell me. Please.—tell me how you found out your name. Was that the only thing you remembered when you woke up?" I stared at him for a long moment, waiting for him to demand my story, to force me to tell him. I waited for him to yell at me, but he remained silent, and only when he seemed to accept the fact that I wasn't going to tell him did I speak.

"No, I didn't remember anything when I woke up. Not even what my reflection was. A ministry official recognized me, when they found me, he knew my name. I spent three days wandering around London at night before that. The sun scared me—I don't remember why—It was too bright, I think, I liked the darkness better, it hid me, gave me a shelter. I woke up in London, in one of those disgusting portable bathrooms. The first sound I ever heard was the flush of a damned toilet.—Does that satisfy you? Or would you like to hear more about how hopeless and miserable I am?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…bring up anything difficult. I was just curious."

He pulled me closer slowly, pulling me down against his chest as if I wouldn't notice or care. But I did care—I cared that he thought he was a comfort to me. I cared more for the possibility that he was comfort, that he was right, but I didn't care enough to object. Because he was so warm, and pleasant, I wanted to be here—with him—more than anything, but even more than that I wanted to not need this contact between us to feel this kind of comfort. Only magic could bring me a feeling a safety, and warmth, this feeling was not genuine, because it was a bond. It was our souls that found serenity, not us.

We didn't speak; the fire flicked casting amber shadows around the room, and the darkness form the outside window was only vaguely withheld from consuming the firelight.

Whispers swam silently in the air and I realized halfheartedly that the three boys were in the corner, still listening. I didn't have the energy to care, or do anything. I felt strangely as if I were melting, unable to move because of the amount of consoling tender warmth that wrapped around my body and relaxed me to the very bone. I was pressed between the back cushions of the couch and Sirius's warm body. My back only partly resting on his chest, and I could feel the soft tickle of his breath as he exhaled and the soothing rise and fall of his breathing.

It was unexpectedly nice, being like this with him. It was simple and pleasnt. As if all the heavy troubles had been lifted from my presence and could no longer touch me. Virtually lighter. I felt lighter.

"I tried to tell Dumbledore." He said after a while, he cleared his throat when his voice came out hoarse.

"Hmm?" I mumbled, not really caring what he tried to tell Dumbledore. My eyelids suddenly felt heavier, and the warmth from Sirius and the fire were a sleepy mixture.

"I tried to tell him about…see? I can't say it. You jinxed me didn't you? You knew I was going to try and tell." His voice stayed even and calm, as if he too was fighting the weight of drowsiness.

"Tell what?" But even as I said it the answer flowed easily into my brain, and I sat up, tearing away from him, no longer did I feel drowsy. He stayed leaning his head against the armrest of the couch, lying down, but he eyed me wearily as I sat rigidly beside him. I felt a physical ache when I wrenched my body away from his, and now I felt our twin pain vibrating dully through me.

"About…" His voice trailed off, and I knew that those words would never leave his lips as long as my curse remained.

"It's no use Sirius. Do you think I haven't tried to come up with alternatives? I want to avoid it, but the vision doesn't show the beginning, only the result. There is no way to know how it happened." I was talking of my death, and as I suspected when I foolishly wrote the date down on the skin of his forearm, he was going to try and save me with that information. A simple tongue tier charm did the trick. But still.

"Kira, can't you just look into it more? Revisit it or something? Why are you giving up? Don't give up." This last line irritated me. He could never understand how much weight had been forced on me to make me give up. Life wasn't allowed to hold that much weight, and naturally I crumbled.

"Ive given up on everything else, why not life too?" Although I masked that sentence with sarcasm we could both feel the truth. "Besides, I have re-looked at it. From every angle. Do you understand how hard it is to watch such grief over my unworthy carcass, over and over again? It makes me sick. I don't want to see it ever again." I had in fact revisited that vision. I would find that file and flip through my scenes until I reached it and watch my dead body on the floor of the Great Hall floor, looking for answers—ways to spare Sirius—, until I felt as if my vomiting days were not over.

And even after hours of torture, looking for possibilities, I had found nothing. And if I died, then Sirius died…unless our bond was weak enough. Which was why I had been avoiding him.

He paused painfully, thinking—I could feel—about the strain in my voice. He was trying to cause as little stress as possible for me. That wouldn't work.

"There has to be something. Do it for me, Kira. My life is on the line too." Guilt, that was his technique. He was trying ot make me feel as If I were not trying to save him. He didn't care if he died. I knew that, without been able to explain why. I just did.

He was worried about _me_, about my death, because it was so inevitable. Unchangeable. And his, as I told him, he could live if only we stayed apart—weakening our bond. He knew that staying away could save his life, and yet he refused to. It was so frustrating. I was trying to save his life while he tried to save mine, and one or both of us had to die. I was going to be that _one_ if it was the last thing I did. And it would be.

"We both know it will lead nowhere. And you have options, I don't. It's time for _you_ to give up, Sirius. You need to realize what's not worth dying for, and that's me. Give up. Live your life, and let me be."

The common room was as silent and heavy as loss when I walked back up the cold spiral stone staircase to the girl's dormitory. Each step I took away form him there was the physical tearing sensation of being separated. This happened every time I was with Sirius. And every time it became harder to walk away.

---

I let the steady stream of hissing hot water burn and harass my skin, and I huddled under the single beam of warmth with the icy chill still harrowing my mind. My muscles and body were slowly unwinding, becoming less numb by the minute and the scalding water finally felt like scalding water. I still didn't turn the shiny knob to a colder degree, even when the water stung and painted red across my bare body. I just wasn't in the mood. Something about lifting my arm and exerting the effort just sounded completely unappealing. It seemed to be an unattainable task, and I know how ridiculous that sounds, but lethargy was making my limbs heavy and my thoughts dull.

I thought slowly of the snowy Quidditch field and the icy damp winds that stung in the opposite way of this water. So many people tried out for the school team I found myself wondering if Hogwarts was truly that large. It made me surprisingly anxious, even _nervous_. Surprising, only because the nervousness was for such a normal petty reason it almost made me laugh. Such a teenage drama reason to be nervous for, and I felt shallow at the same time as exhilarated by such a substantial change my life had shifted into. I imagined a dark and shadowy globe that twisted, like ringing a towel, until it was the shape of and hourglass, and then sprung out again with a lighter, more colorful scene.

My heart bounced in my chest, like it was trying to leap a great distance, and then began a faster repetitive rate. I paused for a moment, listening to my own heart beat as if it were foreign and wondered what Sirius could possibly be doing at this hour to make my heart flutter so badly. It's obnoxious when the body is still and the heart is not, the thud of it was so loud it flooded my head with pressure, and I turned the water off violently and reached for the nearest towel.

My heart still beat franticly and I had a vague flash of snowy ground moving underneath and the cold bluefish tinted footsteps left behind that left me dizzy once the scene had disappeared. It was blinding flash, just seconds, and then I returned to the bathroom, standing soaked and cold on the tile floor. It was like looking into the brightest light after an eternity of darkness and it felt as if someone was pressing my eyes into their sockets as if forcing them into my brain.

I wondered idly where Sirius was in this weather as I changed and dressed and finally lay a top my welcoming bed, but I came to no conclusions. There would be no doubt that we would be chosen for the school Quidditch team, as Sirius and I practically read each others thoughts, or rather emotions. I would never hear, like spoken words, the thoughts that ran through his head, but I could feel the drive behind his actions, and he with me, so naturally on the Quidditch field we worked as one seamless pair. It was eerie, letting instinct take over, and letting my mind spiel taking us to new heights in our bind. It felt like some magnetic force was constantly planning when we would cross paths, both on the field and off.

I winced at the thought of spending a month in Romania at some random foreign school with Sirius Black. It would be harder than ever to avoid him. My heart beat faster still.

The mattress sunk lightly to my left and Lily lay down next to me in the dull candle light. I turned to her slightly, and then continued staring at the flickering shadows projected on the low ceiling.  "You did great today." She said finally, and then turned and propped herself up on one elbow. Her red hair shimmered golden and spilled like fabric on the red comforter. I said nothing, and I knew she was waiting for an answer. Something was bothering her, and even as she said that compliment there were other meanings to it. She was proud and happy, excited and amazed, but at the same time worried, disappointed and sad. I could not decipher the meaning for her telling me this—she wanted this to lead somewhere, she was anxious—yet I could not see it, so I stayed silent.

She sighed after a while and lay back down, absently tracing lines on the bed with her fingers. "It's incredible watching you and Sirius work together. _Before_ it was, but now it's…wow." She turned to me again and smiled. "I don't know how to describe it. You can't read his thoughts can you?"

"No," I shook my head, feeling my heart thunder again, as if something had surprised me. I pressed a hand to my chest, as if to make it slower, but it did no good, and I sighed unhappily.

"What's wrong?" Lily's quiet watchful gaze was on me.

"Sirius is doing something. My heart's beating a million times an hour." I said absently, rubbing my temple. She was quiet again, regarding me carefully. I could feel the weight of her dilemma in her pause. "What's worrying you?" I finally asked, unable to think of a wittier way to release her qualm. For a moment she seemed surprised, but then quickly recovered and plopped back down against the bed sighing.

"I don't want you to go. To Romania, I mean." She seemed to feel guilty about saying this. "I know—I know I'm being selfish, and it's not my decision, but…I don't know. I want you to be happy, and I want you to go—but I don't." She let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm going to miss you. And a month is so long." I knew she was referring to the shortened time I had. Until May. But she didn't know when I was going to drop dead, so to her that month was going to be a painful.

"Lily," I murmured, facing her for the first time. "I'll come back. I promise. Besides, we still have Christmas vacation and New Years, and everything else. It doesn't start until the end of January. We don't even know if I made the team." She smiled a watery smile and slid off the bed, standing in the candlelight.

"I know. I'm being silly, aren't I?" She smiled again, and it seemed less strained this time. She leaned close to my neck and plucked at the necklace that hung there. "I never noticed this was red before. Did it always glow?" She asked straightening up and looking at me. I picked up the chain and held the heart locket loosely. It was the color of coal embers. I shook my head.

"No, it's usually gold. I don't know what it's deal it." I told her, and dropped the locket heavily to my chest. She shrugged, walking over to her bed.

"Do you want to put out the lights?" She asked, and I nodded. With a quiet breath the room was swallowed in darkness.

The heartbeat was louder with silence and darkness, still a steady quick beat. It thundered in my chest and pounded solidly in my temple. When I heard the quiet breathing of Lily finally asleep I slid off the mattress and stood facing the dormitory window. A pale opalescent moon hung in the dark sky, and slowly I undid the latch and opened the window. A cool snowy breath swept up my hair and set my skin stinging. Thick feather flakes of snow drifted down to earth as if in slow rhythm with the swaying trees, and the white ground gleamed in the light of the moon. The forbidden forest stood darkly against such a light background, and the gnarled twisted roots of the trees seemed to breathe with taunts. I could feel Sirius there. Within those trees. And the draw to move silently across the snowy field and disappear into the woodsy darkness of the shadowed trees was consequently luring.

The step I took up into the windowsill was small, but the decision was more profound. I wasn't going to jump, but I was going to find a way down. The snowflakes stuck to the warmth of my skin and slowly melted into droplets of water. I followed a stone ledge that lead to another window, and to another, and to another. I followed the same ledge, making no progress downward, but I felt a soothing calm patience with my decent. I knew I would soon touch the icy ground, and soon become shadowed by the trees, and soon find Sirius.

I could tell that his heart was making my heart still beat faster, but I wondered if he could detect the increase in my beat, even if it seemed our hearts were one—could he tell? It didn't matter, but I felt I should know.

The thin stone ledge moved on, curving with the roundness of the castle, and little furry flakes were coating the edge in a soft down. When I saw a small protruding rooftop that most likely covered a window, I paused, and thoughtfully considered how I could leap down without slipping.

When a window opened to my left, I was barely pulled from my own thoughts, which was careless, but at least I did not startle. I watched as four boys peered out of the open window, three of which I recognized from the common room that one day. They looked shocked and confused and awed and cautious.

"What are you doing?" One boy whispered, glancing down and gulping icy air. I felt the same measured patience soothe my pulse as if silver were flowing through my veins.

"I'm trying to get down." I said, and snowflakes caught on my eyelashes and no longer melted in contact with my skin. The warmth had left me. I did not feel the cold. I felt surreal.

"—How?" another boy choked, he seemed unable to speak through his shock. I shrugged and turned back towards the window overhang, just mere feet across. It was so small that if I slipped it would be hard not to fall.

I stepped off my safe ledge, and landed on the small portion of roof with a puff of disturbed snow. I did not slip, and nor did I fall. But I had known that before I jumped.

The moon hung in the sky like a round silver locket, and the snow seemed to burn a more angelic brightness than even the diamond glinting stars.

The boys above, hanging our their stained glass dormitory window squabbled and shrieked in protest of my sudden leap, and the honey colored bar of light that seeped out of their room was interrupted by their moving shadows.

"What are you _doing_?"

"Are you _mad_?"

"You could have died!" They all wailed, and I watched silently from a little below their window sill, feeling the tug of my heart pulling me in the opposite direction. I let them talk and persuade and coax me until I could no longer see the determination in their eyes. It felt rude to leave while they were trying valiantly to help me, but my mind was set, and I was going to find Sirius. The need to find him stumped me, but I did not object.

"Here!" One boy said returning to the opening, throwing down four bed sheets tied together in one long red line out the bright window. "Use this to get down. NO jumping." I looked up at the four shadowed silhouettes framed by a halo of light beaming from inside their dorm, feeling a strange shadow of affection for the unknown characters and personalities. I fingered the fabric of the make shift rope, standing precariously upon a snow patched, rickety window awning, and abruptly smiled.

"Thanks." I called, lowing myself easily on the soft rope until the spongy fresh snow covered ground met with my legs. They pulled the sheets back up, and I dashed into the light that washed out over the powdered earth, stopping to squint into the blinding yellow square of illumination.

"Be careful." One boy said, cupping his hands around his mouth as he shouted. I gave a curt nod, and turned to the dark forest and sparkling snow. I turned by back on the brightness, the warmth of Hogwarts—the protection and comfort—and set off at a run towards the forbidden trees and black gnarled branches of the shadowy woodland.

As the forest grew larger, as I ran forward, it seemed that the trees were entirely untouched by the purity of the snow. Where everywhere else on the grounds of Hogwarts the trees where snow topped and glittering, these knotted wood structures resembled the deep black scar of burned charcoal. At night the forest floor was had a spooky mist that blocked any precariously placed branched out of sight.

I stumbled through the woods, the darkness of the forest pressing down upon me; my heart's beat was impossible to distinguish. From my effort or his? Either way, fleeting images of earthy ground flying beneath flared up behind my eyelids as I ran. Brambles and branches cut across arms and legs like whips of unwelcome. Hisses and whispers seemed to breathe into me, darkness and mist engulfed and devoured my intentions, and soon I found my steps faltering, my direction lost. My objective and aspiration forgotten.

I stumbled blindly through the fog, branches ripped at my legs and arms, the cobwebbed trees hissed their hatred, and then I emerged into a moonlit clearing. The moon's opalescent light was cleansing, I breathed deeply, inhaling the clean crisp air until I could taste the scent of my own blood. The cuts slashed on my arms thighs flowered red flowers through my clothing, now ripped and torn. I wondered what other animals could now smell me, smell me wounded.

Sinking to my knees onto the moist spongy ground, cold from the verge of winter but untouched by snow, I let Sirius's heart beat ripple through me. I could feel him in every cell of my body, feel the winds whipping around him as he ran, feel his short shallow breaths and the exhaustion coil itself inside his muscles. But his emotions were blank, besides exhilaration and an ongoing faded edge of dim fear. I let that take over my body, he tingled in my bloodstream, my own breath evened, and I closed my eyes against the metal moonlight. His breathing soothed me, his exhausted calmed me, until like coming to a screeching halt, Sirius's heart stopped. Stopped dead and then fluttered franticly, resuming such a stronger rate that was impossible to hear over. A maddeningly loud continuous tempo of drums within my head. Emotions assaulted, flowed, through me from Sirius—fear, panic, anxiety, shock and an intense wave of guilt, and determination. I wondered what had caused this sudden flip, this sudden onslaught of feelings.

I took a deep breath, my exhale winding like smoke in the frigid air, and closed my eyes again, wishing I hadn't walked out of the castles warmth and protection. Where was Sirius? I felt worried for him, but this forest was disorienting, as if something was demanding my attention elsewhere. I tired to focus on him, let my mind drift towards the arrogant black haired boy who made my heart thump so erratically in my chest, but nothing was coming, it was as if my mind was blocked with black ink. I felt a suffocating force pressing against me, and the shark rocks on the ground pressed painfully into the skin of my legs.

And then I could feel him. Sirius was close, I could sense his nearness. My eyes flew open, but the small circular clearing in the ragged trees was the same as it was several minutes ago. A low fog clung to the damp earth and the silver moonlight shimmered in the snow on the hilltops in the distance. Empty.

And then there was a sound, a crashing, a crunching of dead branches and bushes. It was coming from directly in front of me, and my heart spiked. Animal, or Sirius? Whatever it was, it was being reckless, taking no precautions to draw attention to itself. I stared into the dark shadows of the trees, I should have gotten back up to my feet, but my blood felt still, and a cold chill dragged like long fingernails down my back. A sharp cry pierced the air from in the distance behind me, but I didn't take my eyes off the darkness where the crashing noise still broke the hushed air. It was approaching, rustle, snap, crunch. Closer and closer until inky dread dropped like a stone into the pit of my stomach.

A black shape emerged from the damp, moldy brush, and streaked towards me at such a blinding speed that I barely had time to close my eyes, to brace my body for the impact. Fear choked in my throat as a bear sized animal loped towards me, leaping several feet from when something magnificent happened. The body of the attacking animal shivered and pulsed in mid air—mid jump. The body morphed, streaked until when it touched the ground again, a very tired, panicked human was now running towards me in place of the animal. Shock as white and blank as a thick wall blocked all passing thoughts. I was jolted by the immensity of what just took place, but someone was now running towards me—not just anybody, the very person who's heartbeat had tempted me out the window of Hogwarts school.

Before I could blink, or take a breath of surprise, Sirius Black was dragging me up from the ground by my elbows. Disorientation engulfed me.

"We have to _go_." He sounded so panicked, fearful, worried. I stared at him, looking up into his dark eyes searching for some sort of answer, any relief from this confused fog. His face twisted in pain as he looked back at me, and then he was dragging us through the woods, thought the tangled wet black branches of the forbidden forest, jumping over rocks, ledges, tree roots, anything and everything. His hand grasped my wrist in a strangling terrified grip but I couldn't complain through the sprint. Sirius, with his dark hair bouncing and his shirt sticky with sweat even in the cold, kept looking behind us franticly, tugging me ahead each time he did. Our breath came in ragged wisps of steam, the gleam of the moon slid through the thick leaves of the eerie trees above only rarely. All was silent, until I heard the howl. That pinched frustrated howl from directly in front of us.

My heart stopped.

Sirius stopped.

He swore vibrantly, and shoved me behind the thick trunk of a mossy overgrown tree. A fierce growl scratched through the air like rusty claws, and I fell ungracefully on the rough snarled roots of a tree, scraping my knees and palms. As soon as I hit the unkindly ground I crawled around the trunk, the darkness swarmed my eyes, but through the pale moonlight I saw Sirius standing in a defensive position, a wolf the size of a horse nearly three paces away. The wolf's lips were curled back, showing a row of teeth as sharp as knives the color of ivory bone, grotesque rust colored blood was smeared on his mussel and nose, dripping along with a long line of slippery saliva that trailed to the forest floor. The wolf's titan paws were the size of saucers, and the black dirty claws slashed through the roots of tangled trees like slicing through paper. He yelped a terrifying growl and then paced in a circle around Sirius, crouching low on the ground, his hand sized ears flattened and his nose wrinkled in another low warning growl.

Fear closed around my throat like a choking grip. I stared, frozen as the wolf lunged, streaking across the open space with amazing agility and speed just as Sirius shifted into a sleek, much smaller dog.

The collision broke the still air like a bombshell, and I cringed and stood pulling my wand out of the depths of my pockets. My hands were shaking, snarls; growls and yelps ripped through the air and physically hurt me each time. I pointed my wand, shakily, holding it out in front of me, locating the bloodthirsty wolf out of the tangle of sandy and black fur, teeth, blood and claws. Sirius let out a howl of pain, and the wolf with an aggravated swipe of it's paw tossed the black dog against a sturdy trunk with a sickening snap and growl. The broken form of Sirius slumped to the moist ground. Horror slashed through my stomach. The sandy wolf faced me, licking his bloody mussel menacingly, his tail swishing back and forth the pendulum of a grandfather clock, counting the minutes until death grasped my heart. I steadied my wand, the word on my tongue, the word that would end it's life forever.

"Stop! It's Remus, _Stop_!" I started, James ran from behind me, panting and out of breath. "Stop it!" He cried, "It's Remus, he's a werewolf. Stop." He almost half sobbed, James' dirty clothes were ripped and he sagged towards the ground. I hesitated, my arms lowering.

The wolf growled and lunged for me. I screeched and ducked just as Remus leapt over my head. He landed on the ground and turned at me again, his razor slit like teeth barred like ragged knives, reading to jump again.

James was on his feet again, staggering towards me, shouting. But he was a million years away, too far away. I raised my wand, and in a blinding flash of light, just as Remus lunged for the second time, struck him in the rib cage, but his body was already propelled and he crushed into me. I fell backwards, my head connecting sharply with rock, a crack. A distant scream, and then darkness


	12. Sleepover

Awakening from unconsciousness is like waking from the dead. The first thing I saw as my eyes cracked open was James. He looked worried, guilty, and anxious in that 'My Werewolf Friend Almost Ate Lily's Best Friend/My Best Friends Possible Love Interest' look that is so common now days that it is impossible to miss. I groaned and tried to sit up. Kira crossed my mind like a slashing whip, but as soon as I snapped up my side screamed in agony and I howled in pain, falling backwards again.

"Sirius, calm down. She's alright." He said as if he knew exactly what was bothering me, and I quickly relaxed, but then asked,

"What happened? Where is she?" And tried to sit up again. James pushed me back down to the moist, ridiculously cold ground, and I realized that it still must be night, because the stars were still out and the sky was dark.

"She's fine. I think." James looked to his right anxiously, and I followed his gaze. Kira was unconscious, draped as gracefully as was possible considering the conditions on the ground. I felt a deep shame and fear at my failure to protect her. I only ended up sleeping on the ground while she had to fight a werewolf. Merlin, no wonder she's always shoving me away. I felt another wave of sadness as I looked upon her beautiful form; even in sleep her striking allure still surpassed any other girl on the planet. Her dark hair shined in the moonlight, and suddenly I spotted Remus just as I was wondering where the large fury beast was. He was stark naked, as I've seen him many times before during the full moon, huddled on the ground in human form looking extremely out of it. I propped myself up on my elbows, looking at Remus. His eyes were dilated and I could see the amber liquid color of his wolf eyes.

"How did Remus—"

"I don't know." James admitted, looking relieved that I was able to move without screaming, and ran a hand through his messy hair and rearranged his cracked glasses.. The darkness pressed around us, and I wondered how long I had been out. "Kira did it, before Remus tackled her that is." I winced; I should have been there to prevent that. "I thought she was going to kill him." James admitted, looking at his muddy shoes.  "I didn't know you can change a werewolf back to human form during full moon." I said in amazement, staggering rather ungracefully to my feet and towards the beautiful girl lay on the ground. I felt her pulse, which was normal for sleep, and inspected her. She seemed unharmed, but that was until I saw the sticky blood around her head. I hissed, casting an undeserving glare at Remus and James because I needed someone to blame this on. I couldn't tell how bad the wound was in the dark, but I gently picked up her limp head and removed the sharp rock from under her.

"What was she thinking, coming out here?" James was beside me, looking solemnly upon Kira. Remus shifted away from us, and I had a feeling he was not fully human yet, but at least no longer had teeth and claws the size of a dragon's.

James shrugged. "Don't know." Then he looked at me, squinting through his broken glasses. "We should have told her." He shook his head in guilt. "It was only a matter of time until she got curious. You said you could feel her heart beating, for Merlin's sake." He let out a frustrated sigh, and then glanced at Remus.

I began to scoop Kira up, my side stung like hell, and her small body slumped against me in a pleasant way, if I didn't know she might be loosing blood I would have been admiring her exceptionally pretty body from this angle. I had never considered Kira's smallness before. And although she was still very skinny, she was petite in frame, but she gave off such demanding presence that her size was overlooked. She wasn't dwarfish or anything, she was actually taller than was considered average, but she was small. Cute and sexy at the same time.

"Have you got Remus? I think Kira's head needs some patching up." I told James, and he nodded understandingly. My side may have been ripped out, it felt as if I might be smearing blood on Kira, but I felt I owe this to her. To get her back, get her safe.

"Sure thing, Padfoot." James grinned in the darkness. "At least he can't bite anymore." James looked at Remus for a moment, huddled on the ground looking like a cornered animal. "I hope, at least." I smiled at him, and loped off into the forest trees, grunting with each step as pain surged through my muscles.

It was easy to navigate through the woods that I knew like a second home, but it took longer because I had to stop and breath deeply to take the horrible pain in my side, and soon I was emerging out of the trees onto the snowy grounds of Hogwarts with Kira's light warm weight soothing in my arms.

She was hardly wearing appropriate clothing for the icy weather. Pajamas that only went to her knees and short sleeves, so I did my best to protect her from the harsh cold.

As we approached Hogwarts the splitting pain from my stomach was making me so nauseas that I wanted to laugh and cry and puke and scream at the same time. I was practically staggering, and the snow felt like glue, which I sunk into with each step. I groaned and stopped, aware that I was only elongating my torture but I was unable to deny the pain any longer. I pressed my back up against one of the few trees scattered across the Hogwarts ground, sucking gulping breaths with my eyes closed and my jaw flexed but still unwilling to set Kira down.

After a moment I staggered back up the hill to the entrance door, which was still unlocked by the kind headmaster who did so every full moon.

I lugged us both up the eighteen flights of stairs with eighteen breaks and an endless stream of swearing. Most of the profanities were directed at Gryffindor Tower, which of course, was the only house common room located in the fucking sky. I was thankful for the lightness of Kira's weight, although it always concerned me, because most likely I would have passed out about three staircases down.

When I finally reached the bloody portrait hole the Fat Lady was snoozing deeply with a rumbling snore that matched a bear's. I'm sure it was rattling the ground, painting or not. When I finally got her snoring face up, she glared and gave her famous and quite regular 'Paintings Are People Too' speech and eventually let us inside because, One, I was bleeding, Two, Kira was bleeding, and Three, I might have threatened to feed her to the giant squid. If the giant squid accepted fat soggy paintings, that is, but the Fat Lady seemed unwilling to try her luck.

The common room was as dark as ink and the fire glowing embers where the only light in the room. I weaved through the clusters of soft curved sofas and chairs until I reached the last staircase I would hopefully ever have to climb as long as I lived.

The staircase to the boys dorms was narrow and winding, and it sucked trying to carry Kira up while struggling to keep consciousness and not clonk her head on the concrete walls. My side burned like fire until the pain consumed my thoughts.

I was halfway down the hall, halfway to my dorm, when a door swung open and four boys dashed out into the hallway. Jesse, Clast, Redford, and Blickens all stepped into the hallway with equally anxious expressions.

"Oh we thought you were…" One boy started to say, but as I spun around wearily they're eyes all fell to the seemingly lifeless form in my arms. Kira's head was tucked gently into the crook of my neck where I had positioned her so her head wouldn't get hit on the stairwell, and her legs where bent at the knees around my arm while my other arm supported her back. I could hardly see, I was beginning to get tunnel vision.

"It's Thornhill!" Clast exclaimed with a mixture of relief until it seemed to have sunk in that she might not be in tiptop condition. His brows furrowed almost in worry and sadness. When he looked up his face was blank. "What happened?" The other boys regarded her solemnly.

I couldn't find the strength to speak without chucking up all the mashed potatoes I ate for dinner, and was instead focusing on not falling over. White blotched stairs flitted across my vision and I turned to make a mad dash for the dorm before I hit the ground like a rock.

I shoved the door aside with my shoulder, my side ached with such a deep intense pain that my entire body throbbed in rhythm with the agony. The room was dark, with a smell of teenage boys that do not wash their socks enough, but I found my way easily through the blindness towards my bed and dropped Kira's small beautiful-even-when-I-cant-see-her, body on the bed gently before crashing on top of the squeaky cot myself. My breath was ragged and harsh as I battled with the pain, I reached my hand down in the darkness, feeling the soaked, ripped fabric of my once white shirt. I looked down, not expecting to see anything in the dark, but unable to contain myself. I was undoubtedly bleeding buckets, my shaking fingers traced the shreds of flesh that where ripped when Remus tossed me against that tree like a rag doll by his monstrous claws the size of dragon teeth.

I took a deep breath, laying my head back against the bed and stared at Kira, whose sleeping shape was beginning to form as my eyes adjusted. Abruptly, I wanted to see her in the light, I wanted to see the way her eyes fluttered in sleep, the way her body rose and fell in a tide of her sweet breath. With a grunt of pain, and my teeth grinding together to keep myself from making any other more unpleasant noises, I rolled on my side to face her, and reached for the wand still in grip. I wondered briefly what spell she used to transform Remus, and felt a pang of tortured guilt for not being there to protect her. I retrieved her wand slowly from her fingers, sliding the warm rod from out of her slender fingers.

Lily always commented on the coldness of Kira's skin, how her temperature is not normal, and she is always freezing, but as I brushed my fingers against her smooth skin it felt very warm to me. I wonder if she feels warm to me because of the warmth I feel towards her.

Once I held her wand in my grip, I flicked it at the nearest light, turning a glowing lamp on that illuminated the room in a sort of holiday warmth. Again, the perfection of this girl swamped my senses and I swallowed, as her still form lay broken on my bed. I pressed my fingers lightly to her throat, looking for a pulse to just check, to make sure, and was not at all surprised to find the my splitting pain recede like an ebbing tide. I sighed, as if was relieved from a heavy weight, and examined her face, brushing her tangled loose spiral curls away from her eyes. Her skin was so smooth and pure, like silk or satin, and her nose was straight and small. Her eyelashes were soft and feathery black without the added make-up, and her lips were the pale pink color of rose dust. Just above Kira's eyebrow was a thin white line, a scar, so small and delicate that it matched her loveliness and intensified the reality of her perfection. Her perfection is one full of flaws, but her dark destroying habits make her seem less imaginary. It makes her real, but even so, there is always something so untouchable about her that is almost frightening.

Her cut was still exposed, and I knew that I needed to clean and dress the wound. With as much effort as I could muster, I pulled my aching, slashed body off the bed and over to the bedside table near Remus' canopy sleep area where I knew he kept some numbing potions for before his transformations. I swallowed down one, it was all I could manage without dying. Merlin, that stuff was nasty. I don't even want to talk about it.

Afterwards, though, I felt wonderful, as if I were glowing and radiating healthiness. I walked back towards Kira, mindful to not look down and remind myself how very untrue that was.

Her scalp was slit for a jagged two inches. It wasn't extremely devastating, but it certainly wasn't pretty either. I lifted her head and rested it on my knees as I used some basic, very crude healing spells I learned thinking I would never use them. Her lips parted for a moment, and she stirred in her sleep, murmuring something and stretching cutely before settling.

I felt like such a sissy, sitting there, holding my breath every time this one girl moved. Girls are only good for their body parts, not the whole; they are not appreciated as a whole being. They have nice legs, or arms, good hair or big boobs; nice ass…James appreciates Lily as a person. He sees her as Lily; beautiful with everything she owns, has and does. For me girls are good for one thing. Sex. Basically, in one word, that sums it up. Sex is a vent for my anger, my frustration and stress. Sex is this great outlet that is wonderful because it is completely emotionally unattached to anything. I am a lone pilot, and I am coping with life. That's what girls are good for.

But as I sat there, holding Kira's soft hair and looking at her slender mouth and the slow rise of her breathing, I felt like such a jerk forever thinking like that.

Her eyes fluttered open, so startlingly navy blue, that it still surprised me each time I looked at her. She was drunk with sleep; she looked at me lazily for a moment before asking something unintelligible, and closed her eyes again. Her thick lashes fluttered closed again, and she breathed in deeply. Her dark hair spilled like solid smoke in silk sheets across my lap and onto the red sheets of the bed.

I smiled at her sleepiness, and she opened her eyes again, and blinked up at me slowly. The low lights sent dramatic shadows across the smooth skin of her face and throat. Kira stared for a long moment without really registering; she seemed wrapped in a thick foggy blanket of drowsiness.

Finally she sat up slowly, wincing and gently touching her stitched head with a tender hand.

"Ouch," She murmured to herself, turning to sit on her knees and face me, shoving her hair back from her face. While she had her back turned I tried quickly to bunch up the fabric of my shirt to cover my giant bleeding scratch and the bloody crimson flowers that blossomed in the fabric. But it was dumb to try, because as soon as she saw me her eyes traveled right to the sloppy, slick with blood, wound. I expected her to scream, to cry or throw up like any other girl, but even as I thought that it seemed so out of character for her.

She stared for a long time, and then finally looked up at me. I shifted uncomfortably under her intense gaze. Her expression was completely unreadable, but she seemed to be regarding me, as if she was working out some difficult spell in her head.

"You're hurt." She stated flatly, just as my hands started shaking and I felt lightheaded again. I realized it was dumb of me to just numb the pain and not stop the bleeding. I wondered vaguely how much blood I had lost.

"No, just trying out some Halloween make-up. Does it look real enough?" She didn't reply, again she was watching me, and I lifted my slippery red hands and shrugged as if to say 'yes, you've caught me'.

Kira scooted towards me on her knees; a movement that would have been ridiculously ungraceful on anyone else but her, and gently pushed me down so I was lying on my back. She was careful not to touch anything that would hurt. I grinned at her. Extremely pleased with this situation.

"Gunna nurse me back to health, Doctor?" I grinned again, and she ignored me, now closely examining my slash that I hadn't even dared to look at. I was sort of in denial of the whole thing.

Kira looked back up at me, seemingly grim with determination. She had a smear of blood in her temple.

"Do you have a regular pulse?" She asked, taking her wand from a crease in the bed covering and quickly casting a spell to stifle bleeding. Why didn't I think of that?

I rolled my eyes at her question, watching her from my lying position with my head propped up against a pillow.

"Regular pulse?" I asked her with an eyebrow raised, as if to say: 'like I know what that is?'. She sighed and leaned over me, supporting her weight on one hand between my arm and my torso and used the other hand to press two delicate finger to my throat just bellow my jaw. Man, was she close. If I just inclined my head a few inches I would have had a full view down her shirt, but I resisted, and instead watched her face above me, her hair hanging in satin shiny waves that ticked my face. "What do you think? Am I regular?" She only nodded in response.

Kira looked down at me for a moment, then leaned down casually and pressed her lips to my forehead. I was more than shocked, I was startled and confused. Was she kissing me? Was I going to die? What other reason would she kiss me?

She withdrew; pursing her lips, then saw my expression and looked confused.

"What was that for?" I said, feeling slightly giddy. She _kissed_ me. I grinned proudly.

"I was checking for a fever." She said, still confused. She looked cute when she was confused, her eyebrows creased together and she looked like a lost kitten.

"With your lips?" I smiled crookedly. A realization dawned on her face, and then she looked down on me disapprovingly. Finally she sat back down next to me and started unbuttoning my shirt to expose my injury.

"Yes. With my lips. That's how you check a fever, Sirius. With your lips, because they're more sensitive that fingertips." I barely felt disappointed, and instead focused on remaining relatively normal looking while I pretended there wasn't a smoking girl alone with me, leaning over me playing doctor, while unbuttoning my shirt and talking about sensitive lips.

Merlin, this was pain. Could she be anymore hot while being completely oblivious? I groaned inwardly as her soft hands moved lower down until she reached the last buttons.

Carefully she peeled away the shirt near my gaping scratch, like unwrapping a parcel, and began work immediately. For the next twenty minutes she concentrated fully as she preformed complicated spells, sometimes in her head and others aloud, until my once ugly tear/flap of hanging skin was once again part of my body and almost completely gone. It looked as if I had a jagged scab that had been healing for months.

"You should have told me Remus was a werewolf." Kira said quietly, while keeping her eyes trained on her work. She now had a warm compress on the flat of my stomach, her cool comforting fingers pressing gently against the rough still-oozing line of the scab.

I watched her for a moment, so attentive, her hair a charmingly messy tangle of loose curls.  "I know." I admitted, shifting from my lying down position, until she pushed me back down with a glare. I settled again. "I didn't think you would figure it out so soon." I told her. I watched her anxiously, waiting for any sign that she would now reject Remus for his transformation. That she would be frightened and run.

She lifted her eyes to meet mine. She seemed exhausted, it was almost 3am.

"Is Remus alright?" I nearly sighed out loud in relief. How could I ever think Kira would run away? She runs like a magnet _towards_ anything remotely unhealthy for herself.

"Yeah, last I saw he was completely naked huddled in a ball looking terrified." She laughed weakly at this.

"The irony." She mocked half-heartedly. I smiled at her, but she was once again peering at my injury.

"Am I done, Doc?" Kira looked back up through her long lashes, her eyes the color of dark stormy ocean that was surprisingly soft, and shrugged.

"Im surprised you're not in more pain." I grimaced.

"I took a potion." She raised her eyebrows, slipping off the bed to walk over to a dresser.

"This yours?" She asked, pointing towards a wooden frame with drawers and clothes. I nodded. "That wasn't very smart, pain is a way to tell you when you need to help yourself." She pulled a shirt out from a drawer and hopped back on top of the bed, wincing slightly and touching the split part of her head. Kira handed me the shirt to put on. I looked at it.

"I don't know." I told her solemnly. "I think you enjoy me shirtless." I grinned cockily and sat up carefully as not to tear open my cut.

"I'm sure you think so." Kira yawned, and stretched out on the bed. "I'm cold," she murmured, and then sat back up. I was quick to react.

I threw my new shirt on, and scooted over to her.

"I can help." I smiled crookedly, snatching her up in my arms. She felt so soft, so right, with me. Whenever I was near her it felt like I was holding my breath everywhere else and with her I could finally breathe. I felt her shudder, then relax, but only for a moment before she struggled out of my grip.

"I'm going back to my dorm," she said, pushing away from me.

"No," I begged. "Stay here, that way you won't wake up Lily when you sneak back in." Kira watched me for a moment, as if scanning my face for any mischief I was cooking up. She paused, sitting on the edge of my bed. In the candle light it looked like she was glowing, and I wondered how much I would get to see her like this, so beautiful, before she left. Before she… "Please," I said, and she seemed startled by the desperation in my voice, she hesitated, then finally let her shoulders slump. As if she was admitting to murder.

"Okay." She said weakly, and mentally I did a victory dance to the tune of Kira's ticking time clock.

----

Lily woke up at dawn, awakened by the cold breeze of an opened window. Snow dusted the windowsill and floor, the curtains were drawn back, the window open, and the best next to her…empty. Lily sat up groggily, shoving the blankets back away. Erin and Erica were both sleeping peacefully in their own bed, a little huddled from the cold.

"Kira?" Lily echoed, as fear swept through her. What if Kira had lied? What if her time was now?

Lily jumped off the mattress and walked slowly to Kira's, as if approaching a monster.

"Kira?" She asked again, and shivered as another icy breeze brushed across her skin. With cautious fingers she pulled back the covers to find nothing but sheets. Lily, with her orange hair in charming tangles, still in her cloud-print pajamas, dashed down the stairs to the common room, her heart thumping madly against her chest, where she meet a sleepy, James Potter walking through the portrait hole.

"James!" Lily cried, and James looked up shaggily at her through his disheveled hair to grin tiredly. "JameshaveyouseenKira?" She gasped in a rush, stopping before him. The dark haired boy blinked through his broken glasses at her.

"What? Lil, it's barely five o'clock, if anything you're going to have to talk slower than usual." He sighed, slumping his shoulders.

"Have you seen Kira? I can't find her, and the window's been open all night. Oh, goodness, do you think she jumped out the window? She wouldn't do that, would she? She promised me that she would stay, she wouldn't lie." Lily looked at James desperately, and noticed he had several large misshapen bruises covering his neck, which he rubbed as he processed Lily's endless stream of words.

"Kira found out about Remus, Lily." He said finally, sighing again. Lily gasped, her small plum-shaped mouth twisting with horror.

"Oh, no! Is she okay, she's not hurt is she? Merlin, James! Could you be anymore careless?" She went to smack him but he dodged wearily, catching her hand.

"She's with Sirius. He said she hit her head, she'll be fine, and I'm sure they're both up in the dorm right now. Come on." He started walking past her up the boys staircase, then hesitated to wave her to follow.

Lily walked slowly up with James, feeling uncomfortable, but James seemed too tired to try anything inappropriate.

Sure enough, Sirius and Kira were both fast asleep in the dorm room on what appeared to be Sirius' bed. James seemed indifferent to the scene, and plopped on his bed to read a quidditch magazine, but Lily stared open mouthed at her friend, cozy in bed with Sirius Black. Lily pointed at them, and turned to James.

"Does this _not_ surprise you?" James looked up at her, then to Sirius and Kira, who were entangled cutely on the large bed. Kira seemed so small compared to Sirius, and she looked astoundingly sweet there, curled up like a kitten against a large dog.

"Not really." James replied, looking back up at Lily casually, then to his magazine. Lily was almost annoyed with the lack of attention she was getting from him, but also relieved and interested at the same time. "Sirius has been smitten over her for a while now, he just doesn't admit it. It was only a matter of time before he got ridiculous and she gave in."

"So they're together now?" Lily asked incredulously. The dark haired boy put his paper down, and fixed his glasses with his wand.

"No, probably not. Remus is in the infirmary, and I'm going to tell Dumbledore that Kira knows and we of us won't be going to classes today." He said as he got up and stretched.

"Okay…Ill give you guys the assignments for today. Where's Peter?" She asked as he walked over to the door, and she followed. James shrugged, and rubbed his eyes.

"I could care less." He said and then closed the door behind them and went off to Dumbledore's office, leaving Lily to go back to bed until seven, when she had to get up for Monday classes.

-------

For a disorienting moment, while I was surfacing from the depths of sleep, I had the delusional impression that Peeves was hovering above me repeatedly dropping bricks on my forehead. After I had several minutes to adjust to my surroundings I realized that the pain was just a massive headache that thudded against my temple like a stampede of Hippogriffs. I groaned and rolled over, bumping into something warm and solid, snapping my eyes open.

Sirius grinned, in my eyes he was blurry from sleep and I had to blink again for him to materialize properly. He was propped up on his elbows, a lamp on the bedside table illuminated him in an orange glow, and he looked ridiculously good. I had never embraced how attractive Sirius was, and it was a bad time to start now.

"Morning, beautiful." He smiled crookedly, tossing his hair out of his eyes. I rolled over and turned my back on him.

"My head hurts." I said, because I could think of nothing else to reply with. His comments always made me uncomfortable. I yawned as he laughed.

"I would think so," He said, closing a book he had open, tossed it to the floor, and rolled over so he was closer to me. I would have scooted further away if I had any more room to move. "You fell on a rock last night."

"Thanks for reminding me. What time is it?" I sighed and rolled over. It was warm and comfortable under the thick red covers of Sirius's four-poster bed. The curtains were drawn, but it still seemed dark out. Was it possible night could last so long?

"I think it's about two." He said, stretching out beside me. His aristocratic, easy elegance made him seem like a large panther.

"In the morning?" I snapped up, that seemed impossible, but my head thumped madly and I fell back to the bed in a wave of dizziness. My vision filled with silver cotton balls, and I had to wait a moment to see again. Sirius leaned over me, seeming amused and concerned at the same time.

"No, in the afternoon. Dumbledore's excused us from classes for today. Can you believe that the Christmas Holidays are a week away?" He asked, and I grimaced. Everything was moving too fast. I wanted time to slow down and last forever.

"Dumbledore knows about Remus?" Sirius looked down at me for a moment, seemingly deep in though about something. He had a calculating expression.

"Yeah," He said slowly, "He does. So does Lily. James said she freaked this morning when you were missing." I winced at that, poor Lily, she probably thought I had died or something along that line. I sighed and stretched, it was silent for a several moments, and I wondered why it was so dark out if it was nearly two in the afternoon.

The bed was so warm and comfortable I didn't want to get out to look out the window. Sirius was watching me with a strange expression.

"What?" I demanded finally, turning under the mountain of tangled blankets to face him. He looked very boyishly charming beneath his dark disheveled hair, and he smiled at me while I surveyed him, and his cheeks dimpled as his crooked smile grew.

"You don't care do you?" I must have looked confused, because he laughed at my expression. He rolled over and propped himself up on his elbows. "You don't care that Remus is a werewolf, do you?" There was a confidence in his voice, but also a concern that I would fail his expectations.

"Of course not." I said, "It's _Remus._" He grinned a relieved smile, and turned to face me even more. I lounged on the pillows, running my fingers over the soft folds of fabric, staring at the ceiling. I still felt sore from last night, and vaguely I wondered what happened after I so valiantly passed out.

"So you don't care that James, Peter and I are unregistered animangus?" I looked at him slowly, lying on my back.

"Not really. Peter's an animangus? I didn't see him last night." I recalled Sirius, his body rippling in mid air as he transformed into a dog. Sirius nodded.

"Yeah, he turns into a rat." I stifled a laugh, it fit so well, and Sirius glanced at me and grinned too. "But he usually takes off when things get too dangerous. He came up this morning when you were still asleep. James gave him hell for ditching like that. Someone could have gotten killed, we needed help, and he ran off like a coward." The dark haired boy looked angrily at his hands, which were formed in tight fists, his arms muscles clenched and I wondered if he was more muscled from quidditch or becoming a dog every full moon to fight a werewolf.

"Can you do it right now?" I asked abruptly, surprising him. He looked over at me in confusion, so I clarified. "Change into a dog? Could you do that right now?" He looked immensely amused, and grinned crookedly, his dark eyes glittering mischievously.

I watched as his body trembled and rippled, changing, reshaping and transforming into a large, happy looking black dog. I laughed as Sirius panted with his mouth open and tongue hanging out, he looked like he was smirking even in dog form. The idea of Sirius being a dog was so perfect. I always thought he was dog.

I ran my hands over his silky fur, and he nudged my arm with his wet nose.

"This is really weird." I told him, and he launched himself up and landed lightly on top of me. The dog licked me from chin to forehead and I groaned, (gross) as he transformed back to a human boy—still on top of me. Sirius grinned wickedly down at me, his body pinning me down.

"What are you doing?" I asked, slightly panicked and extremely suspicious. I tired to free my hands, but they were tangled and wrapped under the blankets.

"Nothing," He smirked down at me, I was trapped in a cocoon of covers with Sirius on top. He seemed to be enjoying this greatly. I always felt wonderful around Sirius, even before our bond, but when our connection grew it was like I was completely numb to anything that I had mentally come up with before. My worries washed away, my mind dulled pleasantly, I was given a break from my over thinking self. It was like being on the verge of drunk, tipsy, but not completely dysfunctional. It was hard breaking away from this hazy spell to think clearly. "I just want to try something." He conceded,

Suspicions swelled up inside of me, I tried to wriggle out from under his weight, but he had his leg tossed over both of mine, keeping them pinned beneath his.

"Sirius," I struggled to free myself, feeling panicked, my heart quickened. _Please,_ I thought,_ please don't do anything stupid, please don't ruin your chances, please don't strengthen our bond, please don't let_ _me take you down with me, please don't let yourself die, please… _"I could kick you in the balls right now, and I would feel no regret." I told him, squirming, arching my back and pushing my legs up to no avail.

"You could," He agreed, and something in his voice made me stop my escape and look up at him, my small chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes were surprisingly intense, and he watched me carefully, his face glittered with a strange expression. I breathed heavily, trying to read his eyes, deep and dark with confusion, laughter, desperation, gratitude, longing, curiosity and…desire?

I tried to wriggle out again, weakly, frightened. He moved his face closer to me and brought a warm had to my cheek, tracing slow circles across my hot skin. My heart leapt in my rib cage like a scared bird. _Please, please…_His eyes slipped from my eyes to the delicate skin of my throat, my jaw line, my lips, his eyes painted soft trails across my skin as he carefully admired the softness of my flesh. The dim amber light cast a certain gentleness about his features, his hair so perfectly disheveled, his skin flawless and beautiful, his eyes framed with thick lashes…I closed my eyes, breathing deeply.

_Please, if anyone is there, help me remember my purpose. Help me remember why I wanted to stop this. Help me…Im so lost…_ "Be still," Sirius breathed huskily in my ear, almost hesitantly, and his hot breath tickled my lips as he moved slowly closer. He brought up his other hand to cup my jaw, and his uncertain warm lips tentatively met mine.

I was not at all prepared for the sensation that rippled through me. It was as if a hot spark, so tantalizing it was almost painful, traveled from our joined lips straight to my core, warming my body. I had never felt warm before, not really. Ive felt warmth; the heat of fire across my skin, the glow of sun on my flesh, but that is all on the surface. Like a deep lake; the top of the crystal water is warmed by the sun, like a million glinting mirrors on the surface, but beneath the tepid top the water is suddenly ice cold and dark. A whole new world only meters away from another.

This was truly warmth. I could feel the gush of molten lava slowly start to boil through the rest of my body. Warming my fingers and toes, wrapping me in protection. Safety. _Sirius…_

His pleasant weight pressed down on me, keeping me warm, keeping me safe, keeping me chained to this planet—if only for a short while. Lost and then secured.

My body felt like warm honey, I tried desperately to surface from this slow seductive stickiness, to bring back conscious thoughts. A strange, but not entirely unpleasant tingle slid down my arm, winding around the muscle until it ached slightly.

Sirius adjusted his weight; his lips left mine for a second only to softly reconnect just as sweetly as before. I sighed into his body, melting away worries.

My arm's ache continued, like a growing pain. I felt Sirius retract one arm too, as if he were experiencing the same pain. My arm hurt in the same place where the ink bond lay, and suddenly my thoughts snapped back.

I turned my head away, struggling again. _Get up, Get off. _I shoved him away, and in his surprise her moved away, retracting himself, untangling himself. _What have I done? What poison have I spread?_ My breath came out in panicked quickness and I stared down at my arm. Nothing had changed on the surface, but already I could feel the security of Sirius with me, even when we weren't touching. The bond got stronger. I flexed my arm, closed my eyes and willed myself not to scream.

"Kira…" I snapped my head up, sitting with my legs tossed over the side of his bed, as I had sat the night before when he asked to stay. I looked at him, feeling a harrowing emptiness consume me.

I jumped up without a word to him and stood in his messy dorm room, passing though the heavy red curtains that shielded his bed. Outside the sky was dark with thick dark storm clouds, lightning flashed across the glum outdoors but was accompanied by no sound. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. Sirius followed, I could feel him behind me, standing silently, but he made no move to touch me. _How much of Sirius' life did I just sacrifice?_

"Kira," He said again, he sounded tired, stressed, hurt… I didn't turn around. "I'm sorry, I didn't know that was going to happen. I should have never—"

"I did." He stopped talking. "I knew that would happen." I felt like crying, I felt like dropping to my knees and letting the misery and shame wash over me. My voice trembled; my arms and body did too.

"Kira, It's not your fault. I put you up to it. I wouldn't let you go. Don't think for a second that this is your doing." He said, taking a step forward, reaching out. I silently shrunk away from his grip. I could _feel_ his desperation, his own misery, but these were separate, a different kind of emotion all together because his misery was connected to something else. Something he was afraid of losing.

I turned and left his dorm silently without another word, hating myself with each step.


	13. The Serpentine Mirror

The rest of the day following the unfortunate event within Sirius' dorm was so horribly excruciatingly bad that I decided to end it at Seven and go to sleep then. After I left Sirius' room, I walked sulkily down the stairs and retreated back into my own vacated chamber. Once I began to realize what an depressing fool I was being I went to the hospital wing to visit Remus. I spent an hour in there trying patiently to coax him out of his withdrawn reserve to convince him that he did nothing wrong, and yes, he was still my friend. After he was moved to Saint Mungos, Dumbledore wanted to see me, so I trekked bleakly up the stairs, my brooding mood only increasing after impatiently dealing with a stubborn Remus. Of course, the headmaster was all insight, speaking in riddles and ridiculous jabber. He asked me three times what was bothering me, but I remained stonily silent until he gave up and we discussed the happenings of the previous night. Sirius, and James, _and_ Remus had all given him the details, but he _still _wanted me to tell him, so I did, with more sarcasm than was probably necessary. I vowed I would tell no one, and he sent me out with great reluctance. As I trudged down the hallway with a thunderstorm over head, I realized that I hadn't eaten all day. I met James in the kitchen, scavenging for…oranges? I don't know why. He immediately started demanding what I had done to Sirius and I withdrew into my sadness, trying my best to ignore his insults that bit into my skin. He seemed to falter as he saw that instead of getting worked up, I was becoming an empty face to stare at. I left without food, and Erin and Erica tracked me down in between their classes to hand me an invitation to their New Year's Eve yearly party which they somberly said I had no choice in the matter at all. After Lily got out of classes I sat with her in the library and we did our homework for the day, I had no problem with any of it, even though I missed all the lessons. I avoided Sirius all day; I avoided James all day, and crashed at seven exhausted and in a horrible mood.

The next morning I woke up with a heavy silence, and stared at the ceiling thinking about how much I absolutely did _not_ want to get up. But as the clock along the wall ticked closer to seven fifteen and Lily began to stir I flipped the covers off my legs and resigned myself for a difficult week.

I left and glided down the staircases to the Great Hall without waiting for Lily, or Erin and Erica (who usually left the dorm as class started). Christmas festivities glittered obnoxiously from all walls of the room and excited chatter reached my ears as students childishly discussed the Holidays. I sunk deeper into my foul mood, slinking into a seat to slather some jam onto a soggy piece of toast. Someone dropped into the seat besides me, and I froze mid-bite to glare at a guy from my potions class that was extremely nosy.

"Hey Thornhill." He offered easily, smiling a spiteful smile. I stared at him suspiciously, mentally running over the possibilities of tossing some nasty curses his way without being caught. I doubted it though; I had a tiny bit of a reputation among the teachers. "So…heard you were sick yesterday. It's funny how Potter, Black and Lupin were too, huh?" He asked, cutting straight to the chase. He had this thing against me; I think he thinks I'm a bad person, a bad influence maybe.

I returned to my toast, turning my body so I didn't face him. "That is funny." I replied nonchalantly, silently begging James to walk in this moment. James and potions boy have this feud over Lily that's really quite comical, when I'm in the mood.

"So, you were all sick? That sounds a little…weird." Excellent word choice. I nodded. "I'm not leaving until—" I drop my bread and face him angrily.

"Do you want to know the truth? Well, here you go. James _was _ill on Sunday, and since him and Sirius spend most of their time making out in their dorm with each other, I'm sure Sirius caught the cold too. Remus was visiting his sick mother in St. Mungos hospital, and me? If you must know, I was having _feminine _issues yesterday. Now, if you don't have anymore questions, I'm positive that you'll be in much better shape than if you don't leave this instant." I sharply grabbed my bag, and stood, feeling the familiar dizziness wash over me, like an egg cracking on my skull. I paused a moment, wavering in my retreat.

Sirius was standing there, but he was not the source of the dizziness. I blinked, trying to force it back, mentally screaming for it to stop as Sirius laughed and clapped at my grand lying performance.

"That was great, Kira. Really, you should have seen that boy's face." He grinned but his voice sounded far away, as if he were speaking through a tunnel. I stumbled forward and grasped his forearm for support, forgetting everything that happened yesterday. I needed him. My fingers and feet began to numb, as they usually did, my body tingled and silver splotches surged across my vision.

Sirius was immediately in action; he knew what was happening when everyone else did not. He held me tight as the Great Hall and all the staring faces washed away like watercolor, lowering us to the floor.

"Don't worry. I'll come with you." He whispered in my ear just as everything disappeared and submerged in darkness. I felt myself traveling to someplace else, like being stretched, and appeared inside the Halls of Hogwarts School. It was dark; the halls were deserted and ghostly. Sirius materialized at my side like smoke, or ink in water. We could never speak in these visions I dragged him on, even if he was more than willing. Ever since our bond he has been appearing by my side, sometimes only half of him would show, other times he only came for a moment and other times he would suddenly vanish halfway through. But this time he felt solid beside me, not like liquid as he did the other times before. He squeezed my hand, and it was a strange sensation in this murky state we were in, but not entirely unpleasant. I felt the familiar pull of the vision, as it guided me to the part I was supposed to see. I wondered what time this was, but no date and time flashed across my brain, which meant that period was unknown, and I would not find out until it happened in real life. We walked silently down the corridors with our ghostly presence, as if following a magnet to our destination.

I felt the line end, and stopped, Sirius halting beside me. The hallway was on the east corridor of the castle, and I scanned the surrounding and made mental notes of the paintings, the wood work the doors, the classroom numbers, so I would be able to retrace this place when I had to. We waited in silence for a moment, the darkness made Hogwarts seem abandoned and the portraits slept quietly. Then there was a noise, steps, quick and brisk. Someone rounded the corner appearing in a long hooded cloak that concealed their face. They walked furtively, glancing around suspiciously, but of course, we were unseen. The cloaked figure knelt down before us, grasping something cold and shiny. They placed it on the floor carefully, as if it were a loaded weapon, and then stood and stepped back. With still an unknown identity, the person watched the round object closely as if expecting it to explode. At closer inspection the metal object was a mirror. It was round and delicately carved around the rim were silver, scaly snakes with red glowing stones for eyes. They rapped around the mirror palette, making the looking glass round, but still beautifully embroidered. The cloaked figure—_a student,_ my brain supplied me, but that was all the information provided—cast a charm on the serpentine mirror, making it invisible to all. They stepped back, walking several steps backwards before disappearing down the hall. I tried to follow, but there was a block, we were not supposed to go there.

And then I felt the sucking, the displacement, and confusion of returning to my own time. My fingers tingled—a sign of life within their numbness. I could feel the cold linoleum floor of the Great Hall, hear the voices of worried professors and students. I felt a warm body come back to life beside me, but could not see him. My eyes remained blind, as they always did, and my senses returned slowly. Sirius was always able to recover quickly, partly because they visions were more like movies to him than real life. A murder on a screen is never the same as witnessing one. For me, it was real. It was part of me, and felt as real as pain.

I heard Sirius talking to the professors, tried to listen through my soupy thoughts to Dumbledore's reply, and felt warm familiar fingers lace through my own. His comfort was immediate, and I was instantly overwhelmed with the swelling of my conflict. I needed his nearness, wanted his presence, craved his simplicity, and needed _him_. But I couldn't do that to him. Every moment I was with Sirius, I spent it endangering his life.

I wrote up the official report of what the vision was about during Transfigurations, and sent it to Dumbledore's office immediately after. My head throbbed like marching pixies, so I did not even attempt to analyze the meaning of what I saw, and left that for Dumbledore. I walked straight to Defense afterwards and sat in a desk until people started filling in. Sirius plopped in his assigned seat next to me, but remained uncharacteristically silent.

Class started, and Mrs. Valensic took control of the chatter and subdued the cursing. She quickly explained happily that she found another Bogart for the half of the class that never got a turn with the last one before it was removed. I immediately stiffened. That would be me. Blood pounded in my ears as I quickly tried to prepare myself for what image I would see in the Bogart's ominous reflection. What was I scared of? So many things I had a hard time classifying which one would be more terrifying.

Sirius seemed to feel my sudden shift, and was instantly alert in an attentive, in an annoying way. I was submerged deep into my thoughts, dissecting my fears, letting my mind spin endlessly on this simple task. What would appear? I was suddenly twice as preoccupied when I realized I would not only be seeing this, the entire class would. Would they be able to handle what was created from the depths of my thoughts? Memories I can't recall? Most of the other's fears consisted of large snakes, spiders, clowns, fire…what would I see?

My breathing hitched as the professor had everyone move their desks to the side, bringing in a briefcase. People who hadn't gone last time, lined up. I slunk into the shadows, feeling Sirius' eyes follow me, and hoped that she would not realize that I belonged in this line. She called a list of names, my name was on that paper. I cringed when she made me step into line, and Sirius stepped behind me.

The first person went, and the second and the third. Snake, clown, teacher…I stepped forward each time, towards certain anxiety, with a numbness of fear that flooded me even before I stared at my worst, deepest terror.

"Are you alright?" Sirius whispered over my shoulder, his warm breath releasing some of my tension instinctively. If that had been anyone else I would have turned around and hit them in my startled, tense state. I sighed and shook my head.

"What am I afraid of?" I whispered back, breathlessly. Two more until I faced my nightmares. Sirius leaned his chin on my shoulder from behind; I was too distracted to care. He smelled like damp earth, leather, fresh clean air and laughter. I could feel people discretely watching us.

"I don't know," He mumbled. "Maybe you fear being afraid." He replied, and I couldn't help snorting at that.

"Or maybe," I said, turning slightly to watch him out of the corner of my eye. "I'm afraid of everything."

"I doubt that." He said, and then Professor Valensic called me to attention. I wearily stepped forward, my nerves so undone from these last minutes that my anxiety had turned to a dull ache of terror.

The Bogart snaked out of it's hole like smoke, forming a cloud of blackness that swirled like a tornado in front of me, as if sizing me up first.

"That's strange, it can't choose." Murmured Valensic distractedly, but I was so wrapped up in the shape the Bogart was now forming I hardly heard.

The blackness began to mold itself into a body, a person, standing before me. Slowly the appearance became clear, the dark hair, long and shiny, the olive tanned skin, the pale mouth and dark blue eyes. Myself. Staring at me like an eerie reflection. She blinked, staring at me with such life I felt as if I were watching myself.

A hushed silence fell over the classroom, and I realized through a fog that I was supposed to do something. But the image was changing. Slowly, her face became grayish, as if paling. The eyes became red, like rust, like blood. They stared at me with such intensity they burned my skin and made my scalp crawl. Deep purple bruises appeared beneath my eyes, and my skin became sunken and sallow, my hair hung limp and dark like smoke. She smiled evilly at me, staring at me with those rusty blood eyes blankly. She stood, still darkly beautiful, but in such a terrifying way that I was choked with the multiple sensations. Run, hide, fight, scream. I could hear the people behind me reacting similarly, but I stayed rooted, entranced but frightened. Was this me, was this me before I came to Hogwarts? Was this me when I killed by order, like some sort of disgusting, sick assassin?

Another shape rose ominously from behind the image of myself. The cloaked person, creature, rose as if returning from the grave, awakening from death. The figure stood at her back, the hood concealing the face of the identity. My heart quickened inside my own body, as the wizard revealed his face, slipping the hood from his head.

People shrieked, some screamed and I heard footsteps, panicked, running, cowering. I stared into the face of Lord Voldemort, with his eyes the same rust red, but with yellow like sickness touched at the corners. His mouth twisted into a cruel cold smile, as his dark brown hair looked strikingly similar to mine. He lifted one pale, long hand and rested it on my shoulder, keeping his eyes on the real me as he hissed in her ear: "_Kill them._" In the same snakelike, horrible growl. It was almost mocking. I stared at myself, possession of Voldemort, as her horrible bloody eyes smiled cruelly and stepped forward to follow the command.

The image disappeared, the Bogart shrieked and flailed back into its box. My wand was held out in front of me, and I let my hand fall heavily to my side. I felt hollow, horrified beyond any feeling or description.

I turned around, wanting to run myself. To disappear from this strange horrible life I led. And there Sirius was. He didn't run from me. He stood silently, watching me with a cautious intensity, a disclosed emotion, and I felt like crying with the relief that somebody, somewhere understood. Even if he was forced to live my emotions with the connection of a bond.

The rest of the day people avoided me like a pariah, like a contagious disease. By the time lunchtime rolled around, Lily and the entire school had heard about both my episode this morning, and my encounter with the Bogart.

Erin and Erica were uncharacteristically quiet, and Lily a little too attentive. The Marauders, devoid of Remus, sat with us and tried to fill the silence with and endless try at conversation that always fell flat. After a while of chilly nothing, I sat up and left without another word to anybody.

As I walked down the halls, students veered away from me, I saw the fear in their eyes when they looked at me. It had always been a rumor before. A rumor that I had lived, and worked for Voldemort. That I could be the one to have killed their loved ones, but now it was set in stone. It was no longer a rumor.

My classes passed in a numb avoidance of everything. I felt emotionally dry, physically drained, and mentally exhausted. By the time school ended I went straight to my dorm, neglecting my homework, and threw myself on my bed. I fell asleep restlessly. Having dreams of bloody eyes, red tears, and ten Kira's with black smoke as hair raking their finger nails across my body as they sunk their teeth into my flesh. I woke up screaming to Lily, shaking me awake.

"Kira!" She screamed, and at first I thought I had alarmed her with my nightmare, but then I saw the pure flash of terror in her eyes and the panic. "Kira, there's been an attack on a student! Someone's dead!" She choked, tears streaming down her pale cheeks in the darkness. "We have to go!"

---

Sorrow swelled through me before anything else had time to swoop down. Grief set upon me like a field of large, black crows, sitting thick in the trees, covering the ground with their darkness, scattered upon the fences watching with cruel beady eyes. My heart hurt with sadness for this unknown person who had suffered…who had died. Why? My mind automatically flicked over to the image of a snake-entwined mirror.

My body moved before I fully register what it was I was doing. And then I was flying down the stairs, crowded with students scared and panicked. I heard Lily calling my name from behind me, and I felt a pearl of guilt for leaving her in such distress. McGonagall was standing at the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room, directing students to awaken the others in a strange unfamiliar tone of sadness. I could see in her face that she had seen the dead; she had seen the person whose life was forever and never. She arranged us, and only when she had everybody did she start a calming speech, but it was hollow. It meant nothing. We were all being moved to the Great Hall to sleep the rest of the night where Professors could watch over us. I thought of the mirror, lying on the floor in wait as if a poisonous snake blending with its surroundings, ready to strike. It could still be there, it was invisible, unnoticeable. Did the professors realize what killed this student? I wrote it down, sent it to Dumbledore…did he tell them?

My mind flickered franticly to a conversation McGonagall had had with Filch. Dumbledore, away on business. My heart dropped, of course the attack would happen when Dumbledore was away, no one would dare assault the school under the supervision of the headmaster.

I stood in the crowd of rippling students, feeling their terror and fear as they trembled and blubbered, unsure, confused. I needed to get to that mirror. The serpent mirror. I had a dark uneasy feeling this was somehow linked to me. Was it possible that the mirror was dangerous? Or was what came out of it dangerous? My heart thudded in my chest in a metallic beat.

I felt Sirius, his confusion and determination as he searched the crowd gathered at the portrait hole for me. I stayed still only because I knew he would be useful, he had something that could help me. I waited until he was behind me, I could feel his presence, calming and beautiful, run through like a cool stream—defusing my uncertainty.

"Where to?" He whispered from behind me, as not to draw attention to ourselves. McGonagall was going to lead us to the Great Hall any moment. How would we slip away? "I have this." He muttered quietly, and held out his hand. I took the object from him without looking at Sirius or the item. It felt like fabric, smooth, heavy and silky.

"What is it?" His hands came from behind me and guided my arms to pull the fabric over our heads. His flesh was warm and pleasant on mine, and I felt like leaning back against him, letting my worries be washed away by the serenity and simplicity he brought with him. I sharply reminded myself of the consequences.

The world I saw now was like viewing behind a screen, but I knew immediately what this was. An invisibility cloak. Exhilaration swirled through me for a moment, until I realized that someone was dead.

No one seemed to realize through their self-absorption that a pair of students had disappeared, and we quietly moved to the edge of the crowd. When McGonagall started to hurriedly herd people out the portrait hole Sirius and I hung back. Perfects and Heads buzzed around the crowd, keeping the Griffindor's condensed into one blob as to not leave anyone behind.

Since this cloak was meant for one person, we had to walk slowly and carefully down the hall, clutching the edges of the slick material to keep us covered. Sirius was pressed flushly against my back, and if the current circumstances hadn't been so anxiety ridden already, I would have been fretting about that fact too.

The hallways were dark and solitary, no one wandered tonight. Halfway there, Sirius seemed to piece together where we were going, and breathed out a warm breath of realization.

"The mirror?" He whispered in my ear, and I nodded silently, keeping careful documentation of the portraits passing. We were almost there.

We rounded the last corner in silence, as we heard the urgent voices of Professors. They were four in total, more than likely the rest were taking care of the remaining students—escorting them to the Great Hall. Some Professors I did not know fully, but Professor Valensic stood stonily within the huddle.

"Chastity is positive they were attacked by a Death Eater?" Valensic frowned, looking around uncertainly. Her eyes skimmed past us. "It seems impossible what she explained, she may have been in shock after Gregory was killed." She said and I felt a rush of relief that it was not anyone I knew personally that died, and then felt revulsion for even thinking that. Somehow I knew that this death was related to me. The Death Eater probably used the mirror as some sort of portal. Was that possible?

I looked at the floor at the teacher's feet, and saw that the mirror was either invisible or gone. But I could feel the power radiating from it, and knew it wasn't gone.

"She seemed positive. She even explained the bone mask he wore. She said he appeared, grabbed them, and then Gregory was dead and the Death Eater disappeared."

"Do you think this attack has anything to do with Dumbledore being as he is not present?"

"Possibly. Hello Minerva, any news?" One Professor asked, and Sirius and I quickly moved out of the way as McGonagall passed, joining them stoically.

"Yes. Black and Thornhill are missing. Knowing those two, they aren't up to anything good. Or at least for their health."

"They could be of help. Miss Thornhill seems to have a vast knowledge of every subject, even the more unpleasant ones…"

"Yes, but even so, Frock, it is necessary for us to return them _safely_ to the Great Hall. That is our job, am I correct? To keep our students at Hogwarts out of harms way? We have already failed once tonight; let us not make the same mistake again. We will split up and look for them. Filch, and Hagrid are supervising in the Great Hall, but let us send some more." The small gathering dispersed, nodding in agreement, and quickly Sirius and I were alone in the hallway with the hidden mirror.

I ripped off the cloak, stepping away from Sirius. I stared at the floor where I was sure the deadly object lay. Silent, waiting. Right under the Professor's noses.

I turned back to Sirius before he could realize my intent, and jinxed him. His body froze with a look of surprise. Then his features became angry. His face was all he could move; the rest of his body was turned to stone.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him as I approached. But it was for the best if he was out of the way. I picked up the invisibility cloak, feeling his pleading thoughts. I looked up at him, frustration and panic. I could tell he thought I was going to do something stupid, and maybe I was. I leaned on my tiptoes and pressed my lips briefly against his and then before I could see his reaction I threw the cloak over him, making his handsome figure invisible.

I turned back to the unseen mirror, circling the area I knew it was in. I knew they were waiting, I could feel their harsh breathing as if they were whispering the wicked wind across my neck. I held my wand tight.

"Come out, come out, where ever you are." I called keeping my eyes glued to the invisible object. I could feel the draft now, the cold radiated from it, but there was no reply. I stepped closer, and my heart rate increased. There was a ripple of movement, and suddenly as if a predator was lurking beneath murky waters, a black shape rose fluidly from the floor, from the mirror, and I let it grab me and pull my back through to the other side—through my own reflection.

It felt like sliding through ice, the sensation was miserable and terrifying at the same time. My heart thundered so loudly in my chest that I felt sick and dizzy. I was ready though. As soon as my feet touched solid ground I would be ready. I gripped my wand tighter, already silently putting a Protego shield around myself.

And then I was in the light, such harsh light I couldn't see anything but white. I refused to let it confuse me. I heard their voices, harsh and celebrating as they brought me in.

"We have her—"

"Grab her wand, quick! —"

"He wants her alive—"

There were so many voices. I swiveled around, throwing an instinctive curse a the Death Eater approaching to take my wand. Suddenly four more curses were shot at me, but they bounced off the shield. I felt wand moving, I couldn't see, or think, but my body knew what to do, almost as if a speech you memorize so much you could do it in your sleep. Shouts sounded, urgent calls. I needed to find the mirror, and I caught a glimpse of the metal surface of the ground. I didn't want to fight; I just wanted to destroy the mirror. I stepped closer, feeling the weight of more curses, dangerous threats. My feet placed on the mirror, I willed it to take me back. I could feel myself sinking into it, the Death Eaters didn't notice in the mayhem. I felt my body starting to slide through, and then pain exploded in my side like a volcano of heat. My vision swirled and the pain pulsed through my side, invading my panic.

I was moving through the mirror. The ice surrounded me, and the pain continued. Their shouts and curses receded, and I felt solid ground again. My knees almost buckled under the sudden weight of my body.

I was back at Hogwarts, and the mirror was beneath my feet. I lifted my leg and stomped on the glass until it shattered, until I heard the screams of frustration vanish from the other side.

White spots invaded my vision, but through my haze I felt someone holding me up, I could make out the outline of bodies, cloaks.

"Where did she come from—"

"She's hurt, we must—"

I let my weight fall into their hands, and heard Sirius' voice through the confusion. I blinked, and saw McGonagall cursing at him, three other people moving to help me. I had a burn to my right. A gaping singed part of skin where a flaming curse had hit me. My skin was raw and bloody, but the pain was no longer demanding.

"Why did you do that?" Professor Valensic appeared in front of me. "You could have died." Her voice seemed so ill and strangled.

"I needed to get on top of the mirror." I told her, and then swiveled around to find Sirius, and found him right beside me, holding me up by my arm.

"They're going to patch you up in the Great Hall, everyone is in there." He told me, but his voice, although concerned was guarded, and I realized he must be wounded because I left him behind.

I tried to think of anyway him being with me could have helped the circumstances at all, but found none. My resolve thickened, feeling no gap within my choice. I felt his conflicting thoughts beneath his creased brow. He wanted to be with me, to help me as I was obviously wounded; he wanted to be awed with courage, (Courage…it made me sound _good, _I cringed), but he also wanted to be angry with me for leaving him behind, he wanted to hate me for putting myself in danger, and he wanted to punish me somehow…by leaving me, possibly. But he knew that would not faze me as much as he wanted. And that frustrated him.

I was worried by how much I knew without thinking, as if in instinct, his emotions, his feelings had become as much a part of me as my own thoughts and desires.

McGonagall and several others escorted us back to the Great Hall, through the winding corridors. I could walk without much difficulty. People were obviously concerned with the exposed and slick skin of my side, but the pain was subdued with the lack of fear and I had felt worse before. A question bubbled in my thoughts, and I turned to Sirius outside the Great Hall, much to McGonagall's protest.

"Can you feel this?" I pointed to my singed skin, and he let his eyes drift to my injury before nodding.

"Every bit." He said shortly, and I mused to myself that his short answer was my punishment for his wounded pride.

We entered as Slughorn, Hagrid, Filtch and Professor Flitwick all subdued the chatter of the students informing them others would like to sleep. The four long tables had been removed from the Great Hall, and instead a thousand sleeping bags covered the floor, each housing a scared, defiant, sad, of excited student. The ceiling reflected snow falling calmly, and the stars were almost visible. Christmas lights lit the walls, and they were draped over every surface of the Grand Tree in the right corner that almost reached the unreachable ceiling.

It was almost _cheery_, for such a bleak night and purpose. McGonagall, now tha we were safely within the guarded doors of the Great Hall, took no time at all to begin scolding us. It felt like the entire hall of thousands of people turned to stare at us. She did not keep her voice down, her sorrowful anger was beyond restraint, and she had no other regard for anyone who was asleep.

"_Do you two have any idea how worried I was_? Do you have any regard for anyone else besides _yourselves_?" It was the forth time she had repeated that, apparently in her angry lunacy, she couldn't remember what concepts she already covered, or rather screeched at us. Sirius was fed up.

"—Of course we do!" He threw up his arms in exasperation. "Why do you think we went there? To _sun bathe_ for Merlin's sake? Kira's the one who risked her bloody life to smash that god forsaken evil mirror! _That's _how the Death Eaters even got into the castle you know. If _you _had listened and read the last bleeding vision we reported you would have had a God damn clue!" Sirius exploded, and McGonagall looked so menacingly irate I was sure she would attack him. But then she took a deep shuddery breath, and pointed rigidly to the sleeping bag ocean.

"To bed. NOW.— As for you," she turned towards me. "Madam Pomfrey is waiting by the tree." Her voice shook with repressed rage, and we both shrunk to do as she told. Madam Pomfrey patched me up in no time. She was an expert healer, and gave me intricate potions to re-grow my destroyed and burned skin, and then smeared a thick paste on my patch of skin to heal the scar, sending me on my way grudgingly. I slipped into an empty sleeping bag, unaware of where I was, and fell into a dreamless, exhausted sleep.

Sometime through out the night, I was vaguely aware of being moved, but I heard Lily, and James, and Sirius, and was immediately soothed back into sleep.


	14. Dull Holidays

The excitement of going home, of leaving school, of finally being on vacation quickly faded as the boredom of a tedious train ride sunk in. At first there was talk, and chatter and stories. I sat idly by, watching with hidden fascination as my friends spun tales about previous holidays, childhood mischief and tragedies, and humorous family disasters. For obvious reasons, I did not have any to share. But listening was enough to keep me satisfied for part of the journey. When, after hours of non-stop reminiscing and foretelling, mouths began to get tired, I watched out the window as the snowy world whizzed by in a hazy white blur.

It was warm in our small cheery compartment, comfortable in atmosphere as well as happiness. Every gloom seemed to evaporate as Hogwarts Express chugged farther and farther from the stone castle. It was relief, for once, being able to feel Sirius' feelings as opposed to my own guilty thoughts. I slipped from my foreboding, brooding mind into a happier, lighter, simpler place where Christmas finally had reason to be celebrated.

It was relaxing, feeling the joy Sirius experienced every time he thought of spending the holidays at the Potter's, and I let myself run away from myself in that means for a short while.

Slowly our babbling compartment died down to a sleepy mumble, as Remus and Lily set out to do their final Prefect's duty before the holidays. James and Sirius started idly playing a card game, and Peter slept peacefully slumped against the wall. I leaned my body against the cold window, feeling the icy chill of the outside through the glass pressed delicately against me cheek. I let my mind spin through random thoughts, drifting in and out of so many things that all seemed to interlink somehow. Then I would go back and decide how each pondering led to the next, reflecting on the start and end of my shiftless thoughts. This passed the time until James lost sorely and Sirius grinned victoriously, asking if I would like to join them.

I replied vaguely, in a dreamlike notion. James left to use the washroom and with him went the sound. Our compartment seemed somber as he left, and I shifted my cheek against the window to a colder, newer spot. Boredom, and exhaustion slowly wound their smoky roots around my body, and I fought them off with the discomfort of the cold window.

"You tired?" Sirius asked, breaking the still silence. I shifted, turning my head slightly to peer at him. I had forgotten he was even there, but now that I reflected I defiantly would have noticed his absence. He had returned to his cards, shuffling them absently with his arms resting on his knees. He looked back up at me and grinned as I lazily let my head fall towards the glass once again.

"Possibly," I answered slowly. I heard his soft chuckle, then drifted through an aimless half sleep until James returned and I fell fully under an unconscious weight.

I awoke partially, still drunk with sleep, to feel my weightless body being moved with soft hands.

"_Sirius!" _someone hissed. _"Leave her alone!"_

There was no reply, and I fell back into a dreamless slumber, my body slumped against something warm and comfortable as the train rumbled on.

Coming back from unconsciousness is somewhat like being hit in the head with a brick. Everything is blurry and dizzy, noises are disorienting and muffled. I kept my eyes shut as I tried to place my surroundings. Immediately the rumble and clatter of the train reminded me, and the voices around talked quietly.

"How much longer do you think it will be 'till we get there?" Someone asked in a low voice.

"Soon now," Lily answered, and I heard her shift restlessly. "We should wake Kira," She added, almost as if the idea displeased her.

"No," Sirius said, and his voice reverberated through his chest. Suddenly I was aware of the subtitle breathing beside me, and the warm body my own was softly curled against. I almost felt embarrassed, but was unwilling to move. This would be the last time I would see him for weeks. Even the thought echoed a dull sting throughout my body. It was going to hurt when we were separated. "I like her where she is," I could hear the grin in his voice, and his arm snaked around me as he leaned over in my ear. "I know you're awake," He said, but I knew he understood my reason for feigning sleep, and didn't tell the others. "Do you remember what you dreamed of?" He asked, and I heard Lily whispering harshly at James. They seemed preoccupied.

I dug into my mind, trying to remember, but when I had woken the dreams had evaporated. I had no idea what I dreamed of. A sudden panic shook through me. What if it was something completely mortifying? I knew he could, when we were near each other, experience my dreams as I could with him. It would be a convenient time to have my first dream of Sirius with him here. So far I had evaded dreaming of him, not on purpose, I just never thought of him like that. Quickly recalling his tone of voice when he had asked me the question I threw away the possibility that I had dreamed of him. There was no smugness in his voice.

What if it was something that Sirius shouldn't know? My visions usually became my dreams; they swirled in my mind and repeated over and over in my sleep. What if it was the vision of my own death? I had had that vision before we became bound, and he had never had to endure it yet.

"No," I answered finally. Sirius was so close my voice did not give us away. I kept my eyes closed, and tried to keep my body relaxed but my mind swirled the possibilities of his question.

He shifted, and his answer vibrated through his throat where my cheek was pressed to his collarbone. "Good," was his only reply.

I feigned sleep for as long as I could but I wasn't able to relax enough to let my mind slip back into darkness. My brain refused to shut down, and continuously circled around what Sirius had seen in my dreams to the point where I was sure I would go insane.

Finally I couldn't stand it anymore, and stood fluidly, fully awake. Lily blinked, seemingly surprised that I was so alert. James was leaning lazily against the back of the bench, Peter had left, and Remus appeared to be reading but upon closer inspection he had his head leaned against the cold window sleeping while a book lay open on his lap. Outside the little light there had been had faded and a thick fog coated the window of our compartment from our constant breathing.

I wanted to leave, but I knew if I did Sirius would not hesitate to follow. As much as it would hurt when we were separated, it would be a good sign that the pain was still there. It meant that the bind was not completely settled, and that if we kept it that way, Sirius would live while I…didn't. Even so, I did not want to be with him. I stared at the door of compartment. Sirius was already rising to follow—even when he felt I did not want him—when I turned to Lily.

"Do you want to take a walk with me?" I asked, and Lily blinked at the urgency and suddenness of my tone. "I want to stretch out my legs," I explained, and she smiled and stood. Sirius wouldn't follow me if I was with Lily, and I could already see him sitting back down grumpily. I smiled back at Lily, feeling Sirius' annoyance at my evasion tactic, and we walked out of the compartment and down the hallway of the train.

I trailed my fingers on the walls of the closed compartments as we walked, talking absently of break, and of other things of no significance.

"Are we going to you're house in London? Or the country house your grandfather left you?" I asked, curious about both. Lily grinned sheepishly, and I watched her closely, trying to decode the meaning of her embarrassment.

"Well, for Christmas break we're going to my house…and then for summer I thought we could stay at Gramps old house. It's a nice summer house and Petunia wouldn't be there." She said and I felt the sudden urge to fall. My heart dripped with sadness until the point where I could feel it sinking low in my chest. She thought I would live to be with her for summer. I had never wanted to cry more in my life, but I had no time to waste with crying.

What was time? What was this driving force that shoved us closer and closer to the end? It wasn't fair. I wanted so badly for time to be a solid thing, so I could pick it up and shake it and make it stop. I felt like I had an expiration date stamped on my forehead, or an alarm clock mounted on my back, waiting to ring it's wailing tune.

Couldn't Lily hear that far off tick that sounded when she was with me—that constant reminder that my life was more limited than milk left on the counter overnight?

Lily must have seen my tortured expression, because suddenly an intense sadness overtook her own features. I couldn't stand to be the reason for that pain. I couldn't stand looking into those pained eyes.

"I'm going to go to the toilet. Ill see you back at the compartment." I told her hoarsely, without looking at her. I could feel the weight of her gaze, but I stared straight ahead, excusing her.

She walked away slowly, and when I no longer heard her footsteps I sighed, letting my body slump against the wall. My body echoed with a dulled sorrow, and I let my tense muscles relax in the cold misery, telling myself that this was only the beginning. It didn't seem fair that once my death was tangible, six months away, I no longer wanted to leave. But six months was a long time to avoid Sirius.

As if he knew my thoughts had turned to him, I heard Sirius' voice behind me. "No, Im not. Ill be back," He said and I felt intense irritation towards him. Hadn't Lily and I walked through three different train cars to get all the way here? Was he stalking us the entire time? I turned to see his dark shaggy hair leaving a Slytherin compartment. Confusion laced with my annoyance.

"Sirius, you know I don't want to see you right now." I told him tiredly as he shut the door, and stepped out into the hallway. He looked up, and my eyebrows furrowed. That wasn't Sirius. I studied the younger version of Sirius as he looked up and stared at me for a moment.

"Fortunately, I'm not Sirius," He said, and I regarded the boy thoughtfully for a moment.

"No, you're not," I agreed. "Sorry," I pushed away from the wall and started walking past, trooping back to the compartment that was so far away.

"Wait," Regulus Black said suddenly, stopping me mid step. "I am looking for him though. Do you know where he is?" I nodded, and Sirius' younger brother looked drastically sheepish abruptly. "The thing is, I don't think he wants to see me…"

"That's alright, Ill convince him." I told Regulus, confident Sirius would follow me if I wanted him too.

We walked in silence for several moments, and I realized how uncomfortable this walk would be. I assumed Regulus didn't want his Slytherin friends to see him with the infamous Gryffindor, and if Sirius was too close to our compartment he might leave without talking to his brother at all.

"Don't you want to know why I want to see him?" He asked suddenly, striding so that he fell into step beside me. "That would be the first question out of anyone else's mouth."

"No, I don't really think it's my business." I felt an affection towards the boy that was buried between other stronger emotions. I knew that it was Sirius' emotions I was experiencing. "Plus, he cant hide anything from me anyway." I admitted truthfully. Regulus looked at me sharply, cocking his head to the side.

"You think he'll tell you?" I shook my head.

"No," Regulus seemed thoughtful for a moment. He obviously couldn't think of any other way I would find out, which was good, because that meant no rumors of mine and Sirius' bind had been spread.

"Is he going to the Potter's for the holidays?" He asked finally, giving up on the other conversation. I nodded. He brooded for a couple moments.

"I thought so. As much as this sounds weird, I miss him now that he isn't going to come home anymore." Regulus admitted distantly, and I let him sit with his words for a moment, waiting for him to continue. "I guess I just want to say good-bye. Even though we're going to the same school and all, I just…don't think we'll see each other much more." His shoulders slumped, and I considered him sadly for a moment.

When we were half way to the Gryffindor compartment I stopped. Regulus looked up at me questioningly.

"Ill have him meet us here," I said. Regulus shot me a confused look.

"Did you tell him to meet us here?" I shook my head, and reached within my mind to find the barrier between Sirius' consciousness and mine. I tugged on his thoughts, sending him a feeling of need. He would interpret it like _I _needed him, and he would come. I had wanted to try this, but had no excuse (or desire) to bring him to me when I was alone.

I leaned against the wall of the train hallway and shoved my hands in my pockets.

"He'll be here in a moment," I informed Regulus, who shot me a skeptical look, but leaned against the opposite wall never the less.

It took less time than I expected for Sirius to show up, and when he appeared down the hall, he was breathing as if he had been running. As he spotted me and his younger brother, Sirius' handsome face closed, becoming impassive. With quick, easy strides he was at my side, grabbing my arm.

"Let's go," He said gruffly, yanking my wrist harshly. I pulled away, angry.

"Don't touch me like that," I hissed, and looked at Regulus. He was watching us closely, but he seemed sad by the rude behavior Sirius was showing him. Almost forlorn. I could sense the admiration in Regulus' gaze as he lowered his eyes away from his older brother.

"Let's go," He growled, glancing at his brother and trying to grab me again to pull us away.

"No," I yanked my arm away again, irritated by Sirius' touchiness. Couldn't he just keep his distance? He knew more than anyone that I hated being grabbed. I looked up at the disturbed older boy, his face hard and his eyes angry. He shoved his dark hair out of his eyes in a fluid frustrated motion.

"Uh, it's okay. I'll…leave…" Regulus said finally, his eyes dropped and shoulder's slumped.

"No," I said shortly. " Sirius is going to talk to you," how could Sirius deny his brother one last conversation. At school they couldn't talk together, nor at home any longer because Sirius would never be returning, and then next year would be Sirius' last year at Hogwarts.

"No, I'm not." Sirius snarled. I turned back to him and rolled my eyes. He was standing by my shoulder, with his back to his brother. I blocked out the emotions Sirius was feeling so I couldn't over analyze anything.

"Yes you are. You honestly don't have a choice." I replied, crossing my arms. He was silent for a moment, his eyes burning. Regulus had shrunk up against the wall, and was watching us silently with regret. The younger brother cast me an apologetic look, as I was obviously getting the worst of Sirius' wrath.

Sirius was tense as he pointed to a nearby, nearly empty compartment. "Wait for me in there," He growled finally, and I smiled up at him, releasing my scowl.

"You're going to talk to him?" I asked excitedly, uncrossing my arms to look up in his dark eyes. His face seemed to lose most of its anger at the sight of my smile. I shied away from the thought.

"Yes," He said slowly, but then leaned over my shoulder, placing his mouth on the nape of my neck. I tensed, and my heart thumped loudly. "But not without a price." He whispered hoarsely, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear as he pulled away.

I frowned at him, regarding the dark boy with caution. He pointed towards the compartment again. "Wait in there." Sirius commanded, and I glared one last final time before quietly making my over to the small seating area. I slid open the door to find Olivia Horn sitting by the window by herself writing a letter.

I cast one last glance outside towards Sirius before closing the door and sliding into the seat opposite of her.

Her mossy eyes looked up and she stared at me for a moment.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, and her voice surprisingly lacked any venom.

"Waiting for Sirius," I replied honestly. She snorted bitterly, tossing her brownish golden hair over her small shoulders.

"Figures," She muttered, then looked up at me appraisingly. "But I didn't expect you to be one to wait around for _Sirius Black_." I raised my eyebrows.

"I convinced him to speak with his brother. This is my punishment."

"You're punishment is to sit with me?" I laughed and shook my head.

"No, I have to wait here until he returns. I have no idea what he's planning."

She raised her eyebrows, and we sat in silence for several moments before the opening of the compartment door interrupted our lively conversation. Sirius closed the door behind him and regarded our scene carefully.

"Hey Olivia," Sirius said cautiously, pausing awkwardly in the doorway. He had obviously been expecting me to be sitting alone. She rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Yeah, sure," She walked out the door and closed it. Sirius shot me a dirty look, before sitting next to me. His warmth dulled my chill, and I unconsciously leaned into his shoulder. We sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the simplicity of each other's company.

"How did it go?" I asked quietly, as he silently wound his fingers through mine. Warm and strong. I closed my eyes, breathing in his smell, his warmth and safety. When I opened my eyes he was watching me silently.

"Fine," but I could feel the peace that had been formed between the two brothers, a truce. He turned to me, looking more attractive than anyone had a right to. His eyes dark and hidden with emotions whizzing by too fast for me to decipherer. He looked away, his jaw clenched, running a hand through his dark hair. Sirius leaned over his knees, bent with his elbows supporting him, and then glanced over at me through his hair.

"What?" I asked, irritated. He shrugged his shoulders and stood.

"You owe me," I bristled.

"I don't owe you anything. Your brother wanted to talk to you. What's so horrible about that?" I stood up too, and moved to brush past him. He caught me with his arm and pulled me back. I glowered.

"Still," he said, smirking. "I told you there would be a price."

"What kind of price?" I asked uneasily, as he took a step towards me like a cat lusting after a bird. A predator. I shrunk away, stepping back until I collided with the wall. He just smiled as he trapped me, placing his arms strategically on either side of my torso. Sirius leaned towards me, his grin growing as each inch he moved closer I visibly tensed. He brushed his nose against my throat, the warmth of his skin causing me to swallow. My heart beat sounded loudly.

"Sirius," I managed, a warning. I was struggling to stay afloat with conscious thoughts. He was too close. He turned his face so that he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye. A wry smile graced his lips.

"Yes?"

'Stop," I breathed, closing my eyes. I felt him retreat.

"It's only a small thing," His voice said.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice measured as I opened my eyes slightly. He was watching me carefully.

"A date," He answered, picking up a stray stand of my hair and running his fingers through it.

"A date?" I echoed dumbly, confused. "With who?" He laughed, the dimples in his cheeks forming as his crooked smile grew.

"With me of course." I blinked.

"That's it?" Sirius took a step back, freeing me.

"Yes. Just one day, where we forget everything and act like we're having a normal date. That's it." I considered him a moment. That was all he wanted? It seemed so…simple.

"After vacation?" I asked him, my head turned sideways, peering at him thoughtfully. He nodded.

"Okay…" I agreed slowly, thinking through it to find no trickery. He grinned brilliantly in triumph. I eyed him suspiciously as I passed him and walked out of the compartment. Sirius followed close behind. "Let's go back now."

----

Lily's house was exactly as I imagined. It was soft, and homey and welcoming—just like her, small but spacious, and extremely interesting at the same time as being completely normal. Lily's mom, Mrs. Evans was exactly like her daughter, passionate, fiery, and the friendliest person alive. She loved Lily with such an intensity it rivaled on James Potter's affection for her.

It was cold outside, very cold, but during the day Lily and I would walk from her town house onto the streets of London, stopping occasionally to look at muggle gadgets and sip warm drinks. Snow fluttered to the earth in lazy, festive sheets, coating the sidewalks and roads in fine, undisturbed white powder. At night, the city of London was as colorful as a rainbow, with all the assorted beautiful merry lights, and for once a year the town shone brighter than the twinkling stars above.

Lily taught me all sorts of necessities of Christmas, like a Christmas tree, which was dressed in similar lights to the ones hanging from the petite houses outside. Or Christmas cookies, and peppermint hot chocolate, and snowmen. I would have taken all this information in, I would have soaked up this life style with interest and curiosity, if I hadn't been in such unbearable pain for the majority of it.

Sirius never left my mind, not for a minute. The ache was so excruciating, a constant reminder of a hollow pain. It felt as if I had lived in a single home my entire life, only to have it stripped away from me to leave me roaming the streets. Like I no longer belonged anywhere, and I had somehow lost a part of myself or had been left behind.

It was a chilling experience, and although at first the pain of being separated was like a leg being torn from my body, over time the pain receded into a fierce ache that pulsed with the rhythm of my blood. It was eerily hollow within my body without the duel emotions coursing through me. I no longer felt his presence anymore, but my need for him never died as the days passed.

Lily and I laughed and flounced ourselves through the hours until Christmas, playing innocent pranks on her older sister, Petunia, and her Fiancé. Mr. Evans would come home from his job at around five everyday, and he would sit by the fire with Mrs. Evans. Lily's parents were intensely curious about this world their daughter belonged to, and had no qualms showing their awe at the things we could do.

I sat on the floor beside the hearth with Lily, pretending to speak another language. The red haired girl was the one who started this charade, telling her parents that she didn't need to learn French (as they wanted her to,) because she could speak Elucuant. They of course, along with every one else in the world, had no idea what Elucuant was, but Lily offered to demonstrate, and we both suppressed grins as we spoke absolute rubbish.

"Fuer de colobur ofwue cen luus?" Lily asked me, and I replied with a sentence of equal nonsense.

"Dur lo fure qie," I agreed, and Lily stood up, and I followed as if we had understood each other completely.

"We're going to be in my room if you need us," Lily informed her parents solemnly, and they raised their eyebrows before nodding with amused expressions.

Lily's room was clean and neat, something I had gotten used to over the days. It was very bright, and the weak winter sun lit the room with a white light. Her owl, Verdic, hooted from his perch and Lily hurried over to her desk where a letter lay. She looked at her owl.

"Did James' owl bring this? I hope you let that poor bird rest and eat some of your food. Merlin knows you can afford to share," She told her owl disapprovingly, before sliding her fingers around the letter and hoping on top of the bed to join me. Lily stretched out, before ripping open the letter and shaking out the folded parchment.

"It's from James and Sirius," Lily informed me distractedly, chewing on a finger nail as her eyes scanned the script written. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she set it down and looked up at me. "They want to know how we're getting to the Twins New Years party. How are we getting there? I hadn't thought about that."

"I don't know. Where do they even live?" I asked, sitting up. I wasn't particularly excited about going to that trivial party. I would rather spend my time with Lily, or maybe even James and Sirius.

"Woodland Cove, its pretty fancy, but it's definitely not close. Too bad we haven't started learning how to apparate yet, then we could just poof there or whatever," she sat up on her knees, pulling her long sleek hair into a messy pony tail.

"What's apparating?" I asked, and Lily looked at me for a moment before accepting my ridiculous ignorance on some subjects.

"Its how wizards travel. You have to get a license and all. You have to think about where you want to go, and then, Bam! You're there."

"I can do that," I informed her, thinking back to the Ministry when they had remarked on how I could apparate already. I hadn't realized what it was then, but the pieces slipped into place at Lily's crude description.

"You can?" She asked excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Then you can get us there," She said, and jumped up to write the reply. As she hunched over her desk scribbling the answer to James' letter, I wondered briefly what I had gotten myself into, and watched as the sun dipped behind the clock tower in the distance.

---

The day before Christmas, the sun disappeared into thick grey clouds that suffocated the earth. Snow coated the air until it was no longer breathable. Thick, harsh cold gusts swarmed the landscapes, covering them with white, covering their color, and enhancing their beauty.

Inside, Lily's house was warm and cheerful, the fire flickered invitingly, and the sitting room twinkled with Christmas lights. The smell of baking food drifted festively from room to room, and we satisfied our boredom by watching a movie.

The entire movie ordeal fascinated me beyond thoughts, but I kept my awe to myself, as even wizards and witches would know what a movie was. The screen was filled images and sound and color, and I tried to pay attention, but something was pulling me in a different direction.

My body began to tingle, and my eyesight blurred. I knew exactly what was happening but my only thought was _not now. _Not in front of Lily's family. Not on the holiday break. Not when I finally convinced myself I could pretend to be normal for at least this week. Not when I wanted to enjoy my only Christmas I would ever witness.

But none of that stopped my arms from numbing, and my mind to fill with another swirling time, another life, another scene.

I stood suddenly, surprising Lily and her mother who sat comfortably on the couch. I could feel Lily's awareness of what was happening snap to attention, as she seized my arm and pulled me back down to the cushions of the red couch. The sound from the movie ceased, and I felt Lily beside me before I was submerged completely in another world.

The emotional draw was stronger than anything I had ever felt, and I knew before the surroundings became clear that this would hold significance for only me.

I was dropped into a dusty home, a house long since out of use. I stood on the middle of a large, old wooden staircase, where recent footsteps where the only disturbance in the thick layer of grime. To the side of me, there where glass domes, with something inside, but it was impossible to tell under all the filth. I carefully stepped down the stairs, the familiar pull tugging me in the direction of the only orange light. Voices floated from the archway of another room, and I stepped slowly down the steps and into the narrow dark hallway. Red curtains, faded and filthy, now resembling a brownish color, hung to the right of me along the wall, and I passed carefully. My footsteps made soft plumes of dust disturb the surrounding air, and I left behind cautious foot prints in the layer of dust that coated the stairs.

The hallway was darker, and I felt as if I had dropped into an underground tunnel. My only focus was the strange warm light up ahead—strange, only because of it's cheeriness in this house of solitude.

As I approached the soft voices grew more audible, until I stood in the doorway, watching as a man and a boy stood facing a worn tapestry. The older man raised his hand and brushed it against a spot where the print was peeled and charred.

"…and this was mine." He finished, his eyes glazed over in some distant thought. The younger boy peered up at the man through his glasses, and I was struck suddenly by the resemblance between him and James. I stepped closer, watching the young man with interest. Up close he looked older than I had originally supposed, in his early teens, and the only difference between him and James was his eyes, and a small pale scar on his forehead.

"What happened to it?" The boy inquired, looking up into the face of the older man with interest and admiration.

""My mother…she did this to it when I ran away. I was sixteen." With a jolt, my body froze. I turned slowly, so slowly that I was barely moving, to face the unknown man. I gazed at his strangely familiar face, every line and crease, every fleck of color in his deep eyes, his dark hair, and skin. There was no mistake. No chance that this was not Sirius. I stared at him so long, fighting the waves of emotion that rolled through me, that I missed the boys next question, and didn't hear Sirius' reply.

He was so much older; the lines on his face that used to produce a smile seemed to have forgotten how. He looked past me, towards the doorway, and for a moment I felt as if he could see me, but then he blinked and shook his head.

"You should go to bed, Harry. Get some sleep." Harry reluctantly walked to the archway, saying a brief goodnight before disappearing into the darkness. I continued to stare at the face of Sirius. Unable to comprehend this.

An unwavering rush of joy coursed through me. Here he was. Grown and alive. Alive long after I would give up my life to the clutches of death. Which meant only one thing. Sirius would survive my death, he would live on.

Happiness engulfed me, and I felt it take on the form of a smile on my face. I lit up as I gazed at him, tired and weary.

"Sirius…" I breathed, unable to control my hands from moving to touch his face. He was still watching the opening where Harry disappeared, but when my skin brushed against his chin his eyes snapped downward, where I was. Again I felt as if he were gazing right at me, as if he were tracing the lines of my jaw and face. But his eyes were still searching, unable to gain purchase on my image because I was not entirely supposed to be seen.

He gave up after a moment, and closed his eyes. I could see how tired he was, how much pain he endured in the sadness of his eyes.

He stood silently like that for a minute, then opened his eyes, strode across the room and dropped down onto a faded, ugly couch with a lamp that provided the light beside it. I followed, sitting beside him as he sighed and ran a hand through his dark, unruly hair.

The aging sofa creaked as I settled my light weight upon it, and I wondered how inanimate objects recognized my presence when intelligent beings did not. In all of my visions I had been a ghost, someone who was strung along the scene by a peculiar pull, and forced to watch the horrors or joys from the frames of shadows. Now, I stood next the very man I went to school with at this very moment. I traced his face with my eyes, admiring the age I would never see Sirius reach. He was still aristocratically handsome, with noble features that matured over the years and gained a certain wisdom and sadness.

He leaned back in the soft, dusty cushions of the couch, stretching slightly as he closed his eyes again, seemingly with the intent of sleep. I watching him quietly, and eventually scooted closer to catch a better glance at the edge of a tattoo marking that stretched a little bellow his collar bone.

I paused before I touched him, unsure of what would happen, of how he would react. I had never touched anybody in these visions ever. I never had the chance or the urge. But this was Sirius. And he was alive.

Another surge of relief flooded through me, making me feel light and airy. I smiled at his relaxed form, lightly leaning against him to press my cheek to the hollow of his chest, intent on hearing his even heart beat.

Sirius' body stiffened, and he sucked in a surprised breath. I immediately retracted, frightened I had spooked him, but a strong arm prevented me from moving back. I paused, slowly looking up at him through my eyelashes to find his gaze. But his eyes were still searching, he could not see me.

I pulled away fully, standing before him stiffly, almost hurt that I still went unseen. His eyes scoured the dimly lit room, body tense and alert, but his eyes were sad and his face filled with pain.

"Kira?" He asked hesitantly, almost a strangled, weak, plead. I cringed over the fact that I still hurt him even now, after all these years. "Are you there?" I stared at his limp form for a moment, pain and sadness burning away the happiness I felt earlier.

"I'm here," I answered, taking another step towards him, sprawled on the couch. He didn't move, or show any signs that he heard me.

"I miss you," He breathed, his eyes fluttering closed again, vulnerability seeped over his features and I couldn't tell if his statement was in response to my reply or not. Could he hear me?

I leaned over him, careful not to touch him as I did so. I felt my body leaving, the surroundings dissipating. I sighed slowly, unwilling for once to leave. My fingers tingled, and my stomach flopped and my muscles curled in a regular response. I felt the pull linger dragging my mind away…

Sirius' eyes snapped open, and his sight focused on me completely. His face immediate burned into a hollow pain. His hand reached out.

"Don't leave," He pleaded, and my heart stopped at the sight. I moved fully to him, letting his warmth envelope me.

"I have to," I felt the panic thump inside my body as I faded, I felt the softness of Lily's sofa again, and heard the sound of her voice.

"Don't leave, you always leave." He said, and I was barely able to hear his words, it was like a whisper in windy air.

"Ill always be here," I murmured comfortingly, trying to mask the lie before I was sucked away from his hold and transported indefinitely back to my body.

Lily smiled in relief when I opened my eyes, even if I was still unable to see.

"Are you alright?" She asked, and I nodded numbly, waiting for most of my motor skills to return to me. She sighed, and I felt her shift closer.

"That was a long one. Three hours, its almost eleven o clock," she told me, and inwardly I marveled at the length I had spent there. "You always get so cold." She informed me absently. I blinked, finally able to see her general shape.

"It's because I'm physically leaving my body and visiting a scene in the future," I told her, sitting up slowly, and winced as my head thumped with the starts of a horrid headache.

"I thought your visions were all in your head, like a movie," she said and I nodded. I had thought so too.

"I just assumed, I guess all this seer business is different with every one. But in this last one, someone was able to talk to me." Lily froze, immediately interested.

"Really?" She asked, wide eyed. I nodded, and a sudden so-wonderful-it-burned thought stuck me. Sirius would survive. He would live. I felt the weight of Sirius' life slide off my shoulders, and a brilliant heart aching brightness scorched within me.

---

Kira was having a vision. Sirius could feel it. It was like static in the back of his mind—he couldn't quite get the right frequency. He was too far away from her.

Sirius sighed and tried to focus on the image, he tried to dive into the vision like he always did but found once again that he failed. He couldn't even see what was happening, and this had been going on for an hour now. He wondered if Kira was okay, or if she needed his support for this. Some of the things he'd witnessed through these visions made him shiver to think that Kira had ever endured them alone. They were like scars that still ached long after the injury.

The night pressed in on Sirius as he sat frustrated on a bean-bag chair in James' room. The stars outside twinkled and winked at him and he was momentarily reminded that tomorrow was Christmas. It didn't make him feel happy like the petty holiday used to, before Hogwarts, and before he was disowned.

He ran a hand though his hair in a tired gesture, trying to push his mind into the vision, but again, he found himself colliding with a solid wall. Upon impact his mind thundered, a headache awakening, yawning, and stretching out painfully against his skull. He sighed a silent weary breath in the night, disturbing the pages of an opened book in his lap as the pages fluttered and giggled lightly at the touch of the small wind.

James' snored buzzingly in the background, like a cricket's song outside at night—something that was ignored, and Sirius heaved himself out of the low, difficult chair before dragging his tired body to a sloppy make-shift bed on the floor of James Potter's room. He untwisted the sheets and covers half-heartedly, giving up as quickly as the patience of a tide before slopping his aching body against the soft padding.

The presence of Kira's vision in the backyards of his mind was annoyingly consistent. Always there, laughing at his inability to reach it while also keeping his exhausted mind from sleep-mode. Truthfully, Sirius had been looking forward to a vision, he had thought he would finally see Kira again, even if both of them were only partial beings, made only of mind power and soul. He would still _see_ her.

His muscles and body thrummed with the thought of seeing her, begging him to make this wish reality. His entire carcass ached to just glimpse her, to see the bright color of her eyes, the tanned silk of her skin, and the dark smoking hair that hung down the curve of her back. And Merlin, he wanted to hear her too, he wanted to hear her sweet, pleasant voice, he wanted to hear her sharp, sarcastic comments and her other softer wiser words. His chest ached hollowly in reply to his desire, and Sirius tossed his pillow across the room in frustration.

At least the pain at the beginning had subsided. At first, when Lily's parents town car had taken her further and further away, and as James' parents' portal had taken Sirius farther and farther away, it felt as if he were being shredded, or split apart, or ripped to pieces. He could physically hear his mind tearing from hers as they separated.

But now that the pain had subsided some, he was left with the ability to think about her, which caused much more pain than was healthy.

Sirius gave up on sleeping and walked over to the cold, fogged window, peering up at the stars through the clear glass. He felt the static in the closets of his mind ebb away, like the swift change between night and dawn, and he knew that the vision was ending finally.

The silence within his own head was bitter sweet. He was glad that the frustration and annoyance of that demanding presence was gone, but on the other hand…he was left with nothing more. That vision had been Kira's, and he had held onto that part of her. But now she was gone again, slipping through his fingers like sand, dancing with wind where ever it took her, leaving him alone.. She always left him. She always disappeared.


	15. An Epic Occurrence

Excitement bubbled in the pit of his stomach as Sirius and James approached Lily's home. It was barely morning, still early, and the pale sun was barely visible over the horizon. Street lamps still glowed dully, and the road was quiet and white as crystal.

A light wind blew the descending snow north and Sirius appraised the modest, muggle house with interest before following James to the porch, through a metal gate.

Christmas had passed the following day, and the entire world seemed to be in mourning, only the slight wind woke the silence. Sirius and James were surprisingly invited this fine morning, and were not in fact showing up unexpected. Erin and Erica offered to house the four children for a few days before the big New Years Eve party, claiming that they needed help decorating, when it was suspected they really only wanted to show off their large estate. But James and Sirius came to meet with Lily and Kira before they left for the twin's.

Sirius wasn't complaining, he got to see Kira…1,2,3,4…four days earlier. Happiness stirred in his chest and Sirius wondered idly if this was his own feeling or still Kira's. Sirius had been in a surprisingly good mood for the past two days, surprising only because before then Sirius had been a right pain in the arse with his constant moping. James now marked it up as excitement to see the infamous Kira Thornhill, just as his smile widened when he thought of Lily, but that was only part of the reason. From only moments after the mysterious vision ended an intense euphoria surrounded him, for no apparent reason. He knew that this was not his own feeling, as one knows the sound of their own voice, but what puzzled him was _why. _Why all of a sudden did Kira feel so immensely lighthearted?

Curiosity devoured his insides; he wanted desperately to know what happened within the vision he was unable to witness. It felt unfair, and Sirius felt left out.

James pressed the doorbell, and the resounding _bing_ echoed back to them through the dense wood of the door. They waited in silence, both itching to see the girls inside.

Finally they heard the shuffle and click of locks from the other side, just when Sirius was seriously contemplating the window. Lily's sleepy face appeared as she cracked open the door. She didn't look even remotely pleased to see them.

"Remind me again, why you guys are here so damn early?" Lily said dryly, walking away from the door and signaling for them to follow. The two boys smiled sheepishly, looking barely sorry.

"My mum couldn't arrange any other time for a port-key," James told her truthfully, while tentatively stepping into the warm house. Lily ordered them to close the door, before dropping sleepily onto the couch. James was quick to settle next to her and Sirius stood in the living room, eyeing the Christmas tree, while trying to tell whether he should go in search for Kira.

Finally Lily cracked open an eye, looking directly at him, she said: "Kira's sleeping in Petunia's old bedroom." Sirius bobbed his head in a quick nod and sprinted for the narrow carpet encased stairs.  
Sirius stopped at the top, peeking into a room he assumed was Lily's, then continued down the hallway. At the last door he paused, looking at the white painted wood before he stepped quietly inside.

Weak sunlight streamed through the window, filling the room with a fresh feeling. Sirius' eyes dropped to the bed, where a dark haired girl lay, deep in sleep, her eyelids fluttering from an unknown dream.  
He smiled down at her, but then stopped himself, realizing how pathetic he must look. Kira was wrapped, and tangled in the pale sheets, the blankets tucked cutely under her chin. She stirred and he sleep, and Sirius jumped guiltily, ready to spurt out an excuse at to why he was watching her slumber, but she didn't wake.

Sirius scratched his head, sighing, and then turned his attention to around the room. Lily's older sister seemed to like some strange things, he mused, running his eyes over the interesting posters adorning the walls.

When he turned back to Kira he found her eyes open and bright, watching him from the depths of her feather mountain of sheets. He felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him, but then she smiled unexpectedly. He grinned back, a familiar tug within his stomach, a yearning to go to her. His arm throbbed with the intensity of being so near, yet so far away.

Kira seemed to feel it too, because she whimpered and unearthed her arm from beneath the pile of down comforters, extending it earnestly towards Sirius. He took it without hesitation, and she pulled him down onto the bed. Both bodies automatically moving together, as if some invisible force was always pulling them towards one another.

Sirius breathed in deeply, his mind feeling for the familiar connection of her own mind. Her thoughts were blurry with sleep, but there was an underlining joy that consumed her, like an orange light through a sea of fog.

Kira melded against him, so close. For a moment they seemed to be one person, breathing with one set of lungs, thinking with one mind, seeing through one pair of eyes. It was strange and disorienting, but their mingling consciousness' became familiar again, and split back apart, connecting with the appropriate body.

She let out a content breath, and Sirius did too. He calmed witih her near, his body's constant hum of need subsiding with Kira so close.

"You're here early," she commented sleepily, burying her head into the crook of his shoulder, breathing in deeply. "Did Lily let you in?" Sirius couldn't help noticing the how loose and easy she felt next to him. He felt a change in her. Would she ever consciously allow this kind of contact before? His mind was temporarily consumed with her, expanding like an inflating balloon.

"Yeah. Her and James are down stairs," Kira was definitely acting different. He wondered if it were the connecting bond that affected her. She wasn't fighting being near him, she wasn't warning him that his life stood between the space of their bind. But now? Did something happen to change her mind? Maybe she wanted him dead.

The thought hurt more than any physical pain could. Sirius refused to believe that, but something had made her give up on…on what? Staying away from him? Not touching? Guarding herself against anything Sirius?

His head hurt, and he felt Kira shift beside him, leveling her eyes to his, questions filled her gaze, wanting to know what was wrong. Her deep navy eyes glittered in the pale white light filtering through the window, and her smooth skin made his hands want to feel the soft flesh.

Sirius could feel her reviewing something within the privacy of her own head, something that soothed her thoughts. Kira looked up at him through her dark feathered lashes, consumed by a renewed happiness. Her rose dust lips twitched into a beautiful smile, and he found himself grinning back, relaxing.

In a swift moment Kira threw back the covers of the bed and rolled onto the floor, standing only within thin pajamas. She shivered in the cold air of the drafty room.

"I need to take a shower," She informed him briskly, shoving her charmingly messy hair out of her eyes. Sirius raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"Need any help?" Kira frowned and grimaced, then turned to walk into the adjoining bathroom of the small room. A sharp pain burned up his forearm; throbbing and constricting like a coiled snake. Kira hissed and halted, letting out a long strained sigh.

"Come here," Kira groaned, looking defeated. Sirius leapt up, grinning crookedly, and slinked towards her. She watched him wearily for a moment, then took his hand and led him to a trunk on the ground. Bending over to dig through the clothes she pulled out a hat and handed it to him. Sirius took it from her curiously, and looked at her for an explanation, but she was again digging through her bag, up rooting finally a bathing suit.

"Put that over your eyes," she muttered grudgingly, balling the swimsuit up in her small fists. Sirius grinned.

"Why?" She only glowered in response. He gulped exaggeratedly and yanked the hat on as she reached up and pulled it over his eyes. "What are you doing? Hats are meant to be on the head, no over your eyes," He told her, trying to regain his vision.

"No, this is a blindfold. The bond isn't allowing us to go too far from each other." She let out an extremely pained, long suffering sigh. "Your coming in the shower with me," With that she grabbed his arm and led him blindly towards what he assumed was the bathroom. Sirius couldn't help his grin.

"So you _do_ need help," He teased, even though he knew the real reason was that their bond prevented them from moving out of reach without pain. Sirius could almost feel her roll her eyes.

-

"This is itchy," Sirius complained, from his glamorous seat upon the toilet. "Cant I take it off yet?" He tried to scratch his forehead through the fabric of the hat with no avail.

"Nope," She answered curtly, from somewhere to his right, where the steam and sounds of running water drifted from. Kira's smell filled his senses and the room, intoxicating and seizing his thoughts momentarily.

"So…" Sirius ventured, as the pleasant smell of jasmine wafted towards him like mist. "Ive been thinking…"

"You have better be thinking with that blindfold on," She told him briskly, and the sound of a thick stream of water hitting the bathtub floor echoed through bathroom, which meant she was ringing out her long dark hair. He rolled his eyes beneath the stiff fabric of his beanie hat.

"Kira, I have my eyes closed, Im facing the wall, your protected from view by a shower curtain, _and _you're in a swimsuit. I've _seen _you in a swimsuit before. What is the big deal?" He groaned, trying to scratch his itchy head again.

"I know, but this is weird. I'm taking a _shower_. There's something more personal about a shower." Sirius again rolled his eyes.

"Girls," he muttered, as the sound of running water ceased.

"You were thinking…" her voice prompted, and he heard her shifting the shower curtain out of the way as another cloud of steam fanned across him. For a moment he was momentarily distracted by how sexy this situation was, and that Kira was standing before him in only a bikini.

"Oh yeah. I was thinking, since we're going to be going to Romania for the Quidditch School Cup after the holidays, there wont be enough time for our…erm date." She was silent for a moment. So he continued. "In my eyes, we have only one option to avoid this tragedy, which is we have to go to the Twin's magnificent partay together. What do you say?" He asked, casually, hiding his hopefulness. Kira didn't answer right away, but he could feel the weight of contemplation, and not the emptiness of ignoring.

"Alright," She consented finally, and her voice now came from before the sink. "You can take off your blindfold now," She told him quietly.

Sirius ripped off the hat and blinked his watering eyes. "Thank merlin," He muttered, focusing on her, freshly dressed, and running a brush through her damp hair. He raised an eyebrow at her tight, low cut jeans, and soft long sleeved white shirt. She was unbearably sexy. "New clothes?" He asked, and stood to face her in the mirror. Kira's soft features looked back at him, her eyes bright and moody.

"Yes. I have inheritance money I used," She told him, but there was a quiet brooding edge to her voice that kept him subdued, waiting for her to continue as he could feel she would. "It didn't feel right, using their money." Kira said finally, in a small voice.

"Whose money?"

"The Thornhill's," she turned to face him, leaning back against the sink, her eyes were sad.

"You are a Thornhill," Sirius replied, taking a step closer to comfort her. He picked up a long thick strand of her wet hair, playing with it idly.

"I'm not," She said morosely. "If I were a part of that family, I would have died with them. I would remember them. Instead…I feel disconnected. I don't belong anywhere, not even with my own family." He could feel her frustration, he knew the feeling only too well. He took her hand, lacing his warm fingers through hers.

"You are part of my family. Of our family. Lily and Remus and James and me. We're all a family, and you're part of it." He sighed as he looked at her, brooding and silent. "Just because you cant remember loving them doesn't mean you never did. And just because you didn't take the same fate doesn't mean you are loved less by them. But if you want, you can always be a part of our Hogwarts family, but you don't really have a choice, youre stuck with us already"

Kira looked up at him, her face a cold mask he had not seen in a long while. Then she sighed, and rested her head against his shoulder, warm and pleasant.

"We should find Lily and James before they kill each other,"

-----

The twin's mansion was drafty and cold in the outer rooms. Wind, sneaky and bone chilling seeped through the windows and through the walls, sailing and crying in victory as it wafted its frigid air across the chambers, stealing all warmth as it went. The snow fell steadily outside, until the sky and the earth made no significant difference anymore.

New Year's Eve was cold. It was raining soft ice, but within the Great Hall of the Twin's enormous house warmth wrapped her sleepy, orange fingers around the space, filling it with cheer. The Twins had enrolled all of us, Remus, James, Sirius, Peter, Lily, and I, to help them string all the ridiculous lights upon every overhanging, arrange exotic flowers in crystal vases at every table and corner, and pretty much transform their old drafty mansion into a ballroom fit for queens. The decorations intimidated me, they made me feel small and ugly in comparison. The entire room by evening breathed with life and beauty. It was comfortable and full of light and life. Glass vases as large as me with silky spotted pale flowers emitted an intoxicating fragrance, and long streams of white lights hung from the ceiling with paper lanterns hanging at the end. The ceiling of the Ballroom reached the heights of heaven, and was enchanted to project the image of a million diamond fit stars twinkling in the clear night sky. Several tables were set up along the walls with mountains of glorious, beautiful food, and on another a fountain for beverages was mounted.

The entire room was so wonderful that it made Lily glow and giggle. I hadn't anticipated that the Twin's took their annual New Year's Eve party so seriously, and was immensely disappointed to find that I wouldn't be allowed to wear jeans or anything 'disgustingly casual' as Erin said.

"I feel naked!" I shouted through the door, attempting to stretched the smooth fabric to at least lower than mid-thigh. Merlin. Im was going to die.

A laugh echoed through the wood of the exit, and into the room I had been living in for the last three days. It wasn't the laugh I had expected. I immediately froze with embarrassment, something I felt rarely.

"Well," came Sirius' amused drawl, "are you naked? Because in that case, I think I might need to come in and see for myself…" I could almost hear his grin laced with his words. I frowned, before realizing that he wouldn't see that. Instead I chucked a shoe at the door which emitted a low thud before dropping to the floor with another thump. "That was mature." He called through the door. Where were Erin and Erica? They were the ones who were supposed to be on the other side…with my regular close. I cringed in the pale light of my room. How was I supposed to change out of this circuit suit now? They promised it was at least _decent_.

"Where are the Twins?" I asked loudly. I was going to wring their skinny necks in about three seconds. The door jiggled as Sirius leaned up against on the other side, and his shadow blocked the orange light from filtering under the door for a moment.

"They left—told me to look after you. You know, make sure you don't try to escape out the window or anything," He informed my casually. Not a bad idea, actually. I looked at the dark window contemplatively. "Don't even try," He said, and I knew that he had caught the edge of my intentions through my thoughts. "Are you actually naked? Because as wonderful and appealing as that sounds, I know you would never let me in, and Id like to."

"No, im not actually naked, you toe-rag. But you're not coming in, because right now Im in the equivalent of my knickers."

"I can deal with that," He quipped.

"Im sure you can," I replied, tugging the 'dress' down again. "But if you so much as touch that door knob, I will curse you until your eyes are swollen shut and you will no longer have use of your legs."

"It's not fair having a gir—a friend that knows more hexes than all the teachers of Hogwarts. Come on, Kira, Im sure—no Im positive that you will look fine. Now get your magnificent arse out here, or Im going in, curses or not."

-----

"Please can we just stay up here?" I asked desperately, looking over the railing into the sea of Hogwarts student below, oblivious, happy, erm…drunk, and excited. Sirius grinned at me, leaning his elbows on the white polished railing.

"You're showing a rare moment of vulnerability, and I cant believe it's at a party. Come on, Kira. It will be fun. Haven't you ever been to a dance or anything?"

"Uh, no. Unless there's an annual death eater murder fest, I think I had the misfortune of missing out on most occasions like these along with the rest of my childhood." Sirius' face sobered, and I felt guilty as soon as I said.

"I guess you're right," He grimaced, and I sighed, realizing with some relief that the other girls were wearing similar things (dresses that could easily pass a shirts).

"Well, if we're going to go down there, at least let's walk down the stairs in the invisibility cloak or something. Did you see the way they looked at James and Lily?" Sirius raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.

"That's because it's _James and Lily_, as in _together. _And that is a shocker. Well, to most that is, who haven't been to their futuristic wedding." He glanced at me. " And do we really have to use the invisibility cloak?"

"Yep,"

-

"Only for you, Kira darling, would I be entering a party invisible."

"Oh shut up. You know very well everyone would have stared at us like were sprouted a third eye."

"But that's the _fun_ part." He complained, crouching lower to accommodate the short fabric.

"You, of all people, could use a little less attention to inflate you're oversized ego. So actually, Im doing you a favor."

"You sound just like Lily. And people would have stared only because of you darling, and we all know it. And I am perfectly content with crouching uncomfortably under a small cloak as long as you are still my date for the evening." He added cheezily, then grinned. "Which requires, by the way, that 1) you do not ditch me 2) you dance with me and 3) ignore everyone else." We weaved our way clumsily between dancing bodies until we reached a semi- secluded corner, and Sirius ripped the cloak off quickly to shove it in his pocket.

"So if a cute boy asks me to dance, Im not allowed to agree?" I asked teasingly. Truly, I had never danced in my entire life, and did not plan to do so tonight. Sirius's head snapped towards me and narrowed.

"No," He said, with mock sharpness. I laughed.

"What about girls? Can I dance with girls?" A grin stretched slowly onto his features, transforming into a devious smirk.

"Only if I can watch." I frowned, I hadn't exactly meant it like that, but of course Sirius thought I was being provocative or something ridiculous like that.

He laughed at my expression.

"Sirius!" Someone called gaily, and we both turned around, temporarily forgetting our conversation. A small, pretty girl with dark hair wound extravagantly in huge flat pressed ringlets bounded into his side, laying a manicured hand upon his breast. "My goodness! I've been looking all over for you!" She laughed, her large almond eyes gazing up at Sirius admiringly.

Sirius, on the other hand, looked adorably flustered. He blinked several times, seemed to realize this girl was practically climbing on top of him, and expertly removed her in a polite way. I was contemplating slinking away, and dashing back into my room upstairs to pass the night reading, and finishing homework while Sirius was distracted, but just then his eyes flickered to me . The girl in turn, glanced my way, and her expression fell from one of elation, to that of bitter disappointment. I actually felt guilty, for creating that sad expression for just being—by simply being alive.

"Uh, hey Sara…" Sirius trailed off awkwardly, and scratched the back of his head brilliantly while avoiding her eyes. I raised my eyebrows in amusement, trying to visualize what possibly had Sara melting in front of Sirius. Did I do that? Did I look like that when I looked at him?

I turned my eyes to Sirius, appraising him for a solemn moment. His dark hair was characteristically uncombed, but maintained a casual elegance no one except Sirius could ever achieve. His jaw was strong and angular, and his nose was straight on the tanned smooth skin of his face. The dress suit Sirius wore was rumpled, and his tie slightly crooked and undone, as if he dressed in a rush, and his hands were shoved deep inside of his pant pockets. He was attractive, or he was…what word did the twins use? Hot? I wondered in what way, but he was handsome. Was that what made Sara so doe eyed, her knees collapsing at the sight of this young man? Or did she feel something for him?

I looked at Sara, small and slender, her pressed curls no longer bouncing buoyantly as her movement ceased. Her dress was shorter than mine, much shorter, and tight. Did Sirius like that? I looked back at him, adorably uncomfortable.

"Hey Kira…" Sara said shyly, as if she was forced to acknowledge my presence. I smiled in return, searching my memory for some similarity I had with this girl.

"Hello," I answered, and before I could think of the connection from our collective herbology class she spoke again.

"Well Sirius, it was nice seeing you. You too Kira," She smiled weakly, and as her eyes flickered again to Sirius it was undeniable that she had some sort of feeling for him. He nodded numbly, and I smiled again.

What did _I_ feel for Sirius? I looked at him again, scanning the crowd, regaining his usual carefree pose. I felt grateful. So very grateful. How many fates had he freed me from? Too many, I owed him too much. First it was just his touch, a simple hand laid on my shoulder that would temporarily free me the Dark Lords torture. And then when we became bonded, I was completely free. Forever and completely. Afterwards he became someone to burden my harrowing visions with, someone who shared that insufferable weight with me, lifting the pounds from my body. And now, with my latest vision, he has freed me of every worry. Because he will survive when I die, because he is strong. What hadn't he done for me? I suddenly felt ashamed I had never once thanked him.

"Thank you," I say abruptly, turning towards him. He seemed a bit confused, before he grinned cockily and stood by my side, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

"You're welcome," His breath was warm and gentle against my neck, and I wondered if he knew what I was thanking him from. He leaned into me for a moment, his body warm pressed against mine. "Have you gotten over your nervousness?" He muttered quietly, and I frowned sourly.

"I was not nervous," I object, and Sirius laughed, extracting himself from me to look into my face.

"That was definitely nervousness, love. It took me twenty minutes to get you out of that room." He laughed again, his face colored with amusement. "I don't think Ive ever had to bribe a girl to go to a party with me before."

"Haha. Im very amused." I replied dryly, grabbing his hand and dragging him across the room towards Erin and Erica. They both deserve a whooping.

"No no no. We're not going over there. The twins will talk till dawn." Sirius said, pulling us to a halt. I felt the eyes of many students on it and I burned to get out of the crowd, away from these faces. He seemed to feel my anxiety, and looked down at me worriedly. "How about…we go over there," he pointed to the food table. "Load up with those weird green thingies, find a nice table, stuff our faces, and then later dance off all the calories. Sound good?" I nodded dumbly, and he grinned encouragingly.

For the next hour or so, we sat at one of the tables near the food station, talking about nothing really. Sirius made several trips for more food, and I wasn't surprised when he took the phrase 'stuffing your face' quite literally.

"So Kira, enjoying the party so far?" He asked, coming back with two drinks. I laughed, something that seemed to be becoming familiar.

"Sort of, I guess. This seems kind of dull really. The twins made it seem so scandalous." I looked around the room, noticing for the first time that people did in fact seem to be getting a little wild, as the time until midnight shortened.

"Well that's because," he paused for dramatics. "you have yet to meet my friend." He whipped out a glass bottle, full of amber liquid. The Label read: Mr. Utanium's Firewhiskey. I looked at it for a moment, then back at Sirius, his sly smile finding it's way upon my own face.

"Are we going to get smashed or not?" I ask, thrusting my glass at him. "Load it in."

--

The floor was moving, like I was standing on a rug while someone pulled it from under me. Sirius was trying to tell me the time, because after all we were waiting for New Years, but I could hardly stand. I grabbed onto him, holding myself there, wondering how he suddenly smelled so good.

"Kira, are you okay?" Sirius' voice echoed down through my thoughts, and I felt like I was shrinking within my own body, becoming farther and farther away from my eyes and ears, unable to reach those sense. I didn't fight it. I let myself sink into numbness.

I giggled into his neck, burying my nose into his collar bone. "Sirius," I groaned, my hands fisting into his crumpled dress shirt. " I feel so funny," I laughed again, and let my body slip down his, falling to the floor. His warm hands caught my elbows, dragging me back up, wrapping me up securely.

"Oh, gods. I didn't think you drank that much." He muttered, and I hummed into chest, resting my head on his shoulder.

"I did." I confessed, then laughed again. " I drank a lot." His body was so warm, my arms and legs were exposed and cold. "Im coooold." I murmured, slumping in his arms, wondering why my body was acting so strangely.

"Come on, let's get out of here." Sirius said, and suddenly we were moving, Sirius guiding my steps. I leaned into him, content to let him do all the work. I suddenly felt sleepy. I wondered where Lily and James had disappeared off to and also when I was allowed to seek out my warm bed.

Away from the commotion and clamor of the main room my head seemed to lose pressure, and I sighed in relief. Sirius let go of me and let me walk on my, thought still guiding me. The painting around me swirled into one mess of color, and the endless hallway kept going until my eyes could no longer focus. Sirius was trying every door we chanced upon, looking inside briefly before closing it again. I wondered why he didn't just take us upstairs where our bedrooms were.

"There's a study around here, with a fireplace. The rooms upstairs are colder." Sirius explained, as if I had spoken aloud. Of course, with my head swimming with alcohol and my thoughts open and spread out, he could probably feel the train of my notions better than usual.

Finally he opened a door that was apparently the one he was looking for. Sirius pulled us both in, and I slumped against a comfortable couch that was well over used. I closed my eyes to collect my scattered self, giving up after concentration seemed to be eluding me.

The room was small and round, with a warm light and an already lit fire. To the right, facing a window, was a large intruding mahogany desk that seemed desolate and bare in that corner. Paintings adorned the walls, and some looked very much like Erin and Erica, with pale blond hair and exuberant smiles. They watched us happily.

Sirius stripped off a layer, and undid his tie, tossing it casually on top of me. I picked it off my lap, having to aim my hand twice before I got to throw onto the floor.

He grinned happily, and swayed for a moment, before bouncing onto the sofa beside me. I closed my eyes again, my head spun like a top, revolving around and around.

I sighed and rolled over toward Sirius. He smiled at me, although he was deep within his own thoughts.

"Im sorry about this." He said finally and his words and my shift in thoughts made me dizzy.

"About what?" I asked, confused. I furrowed my brow and looked at him, watching his deep eyes as he cupped the back of his neck with his palm.

"About our…you know, date? I wanted it to be better. But the thing is, as ridiculous as it sounds, I really didn't want you dancing with anyone else at this party, and soon as we get back to Hogwarts, we'll be shipped off to Romania for that Quidditch thing…so…" He looked uncomfortable again, and the absurdity and the alcohol made me laugh.

"Sirius, you're being ridiculous. I've never even been on a date before. And besides, we still have about one hour until New Years." Something fluttered down from the ceiling, a leaf? A paint chip? And landed on Sirius' shoulder. I looked up at the blank, smooth surface to find nothing. Curious I moved across him to pluck it from his shoulder, and felt a spike in his thoughts, like a sudden, very swift jolt. I looked at him strangely, leaning across him. I only just realized how close we were.

Did I make his thoughts take a sudden twist? Was it this closeness? There was so much I knew, and yet this simplistic interaction had me stumped. I felt useless and deprived.

Sirius was watching me closely, with a strange expression on his face. I looked back at him for a moment thinking. The item on his shoulder forgotten. He could feel my confusion, my helpless uncertain emotions that swirled through me. And I could feel his heat, his unfamiliar desire, and awe. The firewhiskey had our minds open and floating, releasing far more than intended into the others head. Our thoughts were mingling in the air around us, connecting and breaking apart—floating, drifting.

I leaned closer to him, and felt the vibrations of his mind flow through mine. I was definitely causing these reactions in Sirius. I pulled back and looked him in the eye, wondering, thinking.

-----

It was not only because of what Kira was wearing, or what she _wasn't_ wearing more accurately, it was everything. Every possible thing she had done this evening was driving him mad. The universe was conspiring against him. Sirius was trying to be good, to be gentle, to keep his respective distance, but it was so _damn _hard. Merlin, he could die about a thousand deaths. Kira was oblivious of course, another thing that was maddeningly attractive. And that dress. For the love of magic, if he had not spent twenty minutes trying to get her out of that room, while simultaneously preparing himself mentally, he might have cracked when she walked out, tugging the hem of her extremely revealing dress down, looking adorably pissed off and very self conscious.

This girl would be the death of him, he knew it. And what an idiotic thing to do, to give her firewhiskey, to drink some himself. It only dulled his reserve even more. And now she was no help, limp and warm and laughing in his arms. So small, and so unfairly pretty. Her long lashes and straight nose, her long legs and silky skin, her dark wavy hair and deeply blue eyes. How was he supposed to resist? He _wasn't_. He wasn't supposed to resist, he indulged in anything he wanted, and no one ever complained. So why, with her, did he stop himself? Sirius didn't know the answer.

And he didn't know why he led her to this room. This room where they were alone. Another horrible decision on a long list. Merlin! Was he _trying_ to kill himself? Alone, intoxicated, with a half naked human goddess. Great, Sirius, just great. And now she was on top of him, with a different intent than the one Sirius had been dreaming up all evening. _Of course_, she was plucking something off his shirt. She wasn't leaning her gorgeous body over him to kiss him, or possibly whisper something naughty in his ear, or to just be closer, _no_ she was cleaning his fucking shirt. And that only made him more crazy for her, more turned on. If that was possible. Because she was so damn innocent. Her mind was clear and pristine. No dirty little things flitting through her mind. Gods.

Sirius knew she knew where his thoughts were. She seemed adorably perplexed, as if she couldn't comprehend her own beauty. Her eyes watched him closely, she was thinking, the wheels in her mind spinning furiously. And then suddenly she was closer, her body pressed up against him. The exposed skin of her thigh under his palm, her slender arms on either side of him, as if to brace her in case she fell. Kira's hair spilled across his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt, brushing against his collarbone. She smelled so delicious, like jasmine, and crushed berries, and something dark and rich like the chocolate she had been eating. Her nose brushed against his ear, Kira's lips so damn close, near his jaw, one turn of his head…

And then she was gone, and he could tell that it had been an experiment, a test to determine the cause his sudden desire. To Sirius it was obvious. But she still seemed confused. So charmingly confused, looking sexier than anyone had a right to.

"Kira…" He groaned, letting his head fall back against the couch. He was so frustrated. But he couldn't be frustrated with her, she was clueless, like punishing a kitten for nipping. Her frozen form, still half spread onto his lap, looked extremely hesitant. Her pale, rosy lips parted with incertitude. Her bare shoulders, her flawless silky skin, reflected the orange light of the fire dully, and his eyes lingered on her exposed collarbone, and the slight curve of her shoulders. He sighed and shut his eyes. Damn strapless dress. Even more distracting.

And then he felt her shift, her body became closer again, and Sirius exhaled in surprise, opening his eyes to see her dancing, curious gaze above him. Her glossy hair dangled down and brushed against his face, and Sirius reached up to pull the strand back behind her ears. Kira seemed uncharacteristically nervous, like a fluttery butterfly. But her eyes were soft and vulnerable. She leaned closer, exhaling and Sirius closed his eyes in order to control himself. Her soft lips brushed against his cheek first, then delicately dragged her lips across the edge of his jaw until she reached his mouth. Sirius could hardly breath, he forgot that he was alive, _living_ this, in real life. Kira hesitated, her lips hovering over his, uncertain and _so_ close.

He didn't move, frightened that she would jump away like last time, like she would suddenly remember herself again. But then her lips were against his, soft and beautiful. His mind was a frenzy of panic, but he didn't need his head for this. Sirius responded immediately, pressing up against her with equal force. His hands lightly gripped her forearms, pulling her closer, and Kira didn't resist, she seemed to follow his lead and press her burning body against his, suddenly becoming desperate and frantic. Her lips were feverish, and it felt as if a flat sun was pressed between them, burning their bodies together. Sirius cupped her cheek, feeling the soft flesh of her skin, and in turn she wrapped her delicate arms around neck, knotting her hands into his disheveled hair. The room swarmed and swelled in the heat, and she shifted, sliding her bare thighs higher, dragging them against his hip. Sirius groaned into her lips, and he could have sworn he felt a smile on her delicate lips. Time blended together, until minutes ceased to matter.

Something disrupted the silence, a flitter, a giggle, and then the door slammed, startling both Sirius and Kira. She jumped back, spooked, and looked at him with bewildered burning eyes, her cheeks flushed and her chest rising and falling quickly, and then cautiously extracted herself from him, pulling back her arms and legs. And suddenly the space she was in was vacated, now seated near the fire, leaving Sirius feeling significantly colder than he just had.


	16. Travel Time

The chilling wind wasn't comforting, as it never was, but this time I had the taunting feeling it would only be colder in Romania. The Quidditch trip was looming over the theoretical horizon of my thoughts like a lightening storm, dark and terrifying, but impossible to ignore due to periodic flashes of light and cracks of thunder. I had an extremely bad feeling about the entire thing, of course no one listened to me. Lily thought I was being ridiculous, and although she wasn't the least bit happy about my departure, she was in an outlandish sour mood since her, erm, _tussle_ with James Potter at the Twins New Year's Party.

While she refused to tell me what exactly happened, not because she was angry with me, but because I think she just didn't want to talk about it, I _believe_ it had something to do with James hexing an innocent boy she chatting with. So, James and Lily? Definitely not a couple, as most seemed to think. People seemed to think the same about Sirius and me too, and I felt so confused I couldn't even deal with the rumors or whispers that swarmed around me like a pulsing tidal wave. Honestly, what do I do? Was one little, itty bitty er…kiss really that important? I felt so incredibly overwhelmed that I was almost glad I had not yet had a chance to talk to Sirius. And although it was only the first day back at Hogwarts, I was still impressed I had managed that. I wasn't avoiding him, I swear. But Lily sure was a wonderful help, seeing as she wanted nothing to do with James Potter, and wherever James was, Sirius was. It worked out cheekily when Lily refused to eat breakfast at the same table with a stream of colorful and imaginative curses aimed at the wide eyed James. I had smiled grimly at Sirius apologetically before dutifully following Lily to the opposite side of the long oversized tables. At lunch the same routine was established, and I had yet to have had History Of Magic or DADA, which were my classes with Sirius.

I now made my way back from Herbology, and cursed the founders of this school who located the building outside and significantly far away from the rest of the somewhat warm school. Merlin, I hated next to nothing more than cold, which made it extremely hard to talk to the friendly Ravenclaw who certainly didn't seem to mind the Alaskan weather. The boy had just introduced himself and started jabbering though, so I hadn't had to actually talk except for a few poorly aimed questions. Finally the guy got to what I assumed was the entire point of our one-sided conversation.

"So, uh, you and Sirius eh?" I cringed inwardly, and silently the cursed the stupid little Hufflepuffs who had been spying on Sirius and I in that study. I had no idea what to say, because honestly, I had no practice with this kind of thing. What signified Sirius and I? What made Sirius and I a 'we'?

"Um…" I started brilliantly, and quickly glanced around for something of a distraction to save me, and there Sirius was, looking more like a savior than anything in the world. He was walking though Hogwarts outdoor hallway towards us, and I felt a surge of relief so magnificent I forgot about my plan to avoid him. Sirius had his hands deep within his pockets, walking with an easy grace only he could master, with his trademark smirk. I felt my heart lurch like and uneasy boat, and suddenly I was no longer aware of the Ravenclaw beside me.

I briefly heard him mumble something before making a hasty escape, and my head returned from the clouds. I stalled for a moment in the snow, a feeling of incredible nervousness washing over me, before continuing on my way. Id make him come to me, as he obviously intended to do.

Before I had even made it a hundred yards, Sirius was beside me, and I could practically feel the eyes behind us watching like unseen ominous wolves in the shadows of forests, waiting for fresh meat, or in this case, gossip.

I smiled tightly at Sirius, feeling I owed him at least that for avoiding him. Well, technically I hadn't tired to ignore him, but still, I felt a little guilty. He laughed at my effort, and I felt my muscles unravel a little at the joyous sound. He released some of his happiness into the air, and his attempt to lighten my own mood wasn't lost on me. I scowled at him, and wound my own emotions even tighter within my vault, and Sirius dimpled a guilty smile and kicked the snow at his feet.

"Evans told me about your nervous break down regarding about our trip to Romania," He said, and I realized he was chalking off my nervousness as an effect of our upcoming adventure, and some of it was, but not most.

"Nervous break down? I didn't have a nervous break down, she's the one constantly ranting about your pathetic little friend Potter." I looked at him sharply, outraged. "She said that?" he looked uncomfortable for a moment as I glared.

"Listen, I'm not going to answer that because Id rather not have all my friend in a fight with each other, plus Lily seems a little er…_off_ lately, and I don't want her to take out her anger on my _pathetic little friend_ James anymore than she already has." He frowned down at me for a moment as I sighed.

"I didn't have a nervous breakdown," I mumbled objectively, and he released a strained breath before chuckling.

"Okay, okay. I believe you," Sirius grinned down at me, his eyes sparkling in the reflection of the white snow. "So now that we've covered that, has McGonagall spoken to you about school work while we're gone?" He asked, shaking his shaggy black hair out of his eyes. I grimaced.

"Yep, and I chose to take the classes there, instead of being schooled by McGonagall everyday. What'd you choose?"

"Same thing. We'll show those kids that Hogwarts isn't only made of muscle, eh?" He pretended to flex his biceps dramatically, even though he was wrapped head to foot in warm clothing. I laughed at his antics, and privately thought maybe Sirius and I didn't have to classify what we were to each other, maybe we could just go with the flow, as the saying goes. And hopefully this theoretical current wouldn't carry us over a waterfall.

---

James was being a complete arse. Lily had stormed off with Erin and Erica in tow, both twins looking extremely frightened, and James was moping around like a lost puppy. And he wasn't nearly as cute as puppy either, so he barely pulled it off.

I sighed, and stood in front of the morose boy, hands on hips, ready to slap some sense into him. Maybe tell him to get over it. He was going to marry her after all. The raven haired boy was slumped in a common room chair, and most of the rest of the room seemed to be watching us. Our small group, it seemed, had become quite the center of most of the Hogwarts gossip, considering Lily and James had gone to the party together, and ended up hating each other again, and Sirius and I had…erm…hooked up, as they put it. So naturally everyone was watching.

"I give up," James stated, throwing his arms into the air. "Lily can go do what ever she wants, but Ill stay out of her way from now on." He said to me without looking into my eyes. My brain froze in surprise for a moment, and I quickly revised my 'get over it' tactic to one of a little more encouragement.

I sat down on the floor in front of him while he stared blankly at his hands. I wished Sirius were here to cheer him up, but the damned boy had already gotten a detention. I guess I was the only one who could really tell him something that would cheer him up about Lily though, and I planned on letting it loose.

"James," I started uncertainly, watching him closely. "I have something to tell you." He looked up at my confession, and I applauded myself for at least grasping his attention. "Well, you don't really need to worry about not ever getting Lily, because quite frankly, you guys are going to be married. So stop your depressed little charade right now, and just because Im telling you this, does not mean you can go shout it out to Lily. If you do, I will personally make sure you never make it to that wedding." I sighed at his flabbergasted expression, and stood up slowly. "All you have to do is give her some space, and just let things…you know, happen." And then, as an after thought I added, "Go with the flow, okay?" just for kicks, and made my way up to bed, hoping James wouldn't be such a downer on our long trip to Romania in two days.

---

McGonagall would be accompanying the small group of selected students to the School Copar de Magie in a mountainous range in Romania. For obvious reasons, Dumbledore could not indulge, for he had far too many prior arrangements, and in these dark times it was imprudent to leave an entire school of students without defense. The night before we were supposed to leave, Lily was helping me pack amidst all the articles of clothing I owned, and some of Erin's Erica's who had insisted that I was to look my best at all times. The young red head witch was in a vile mood, still flaming about James Potter's ultimate screw up. I pet the Nala absently, curled within my trunk, as I shuffled through all the things I would need.

The little buttercup cat had spent the last months sleeping upon my pillow, her whispers tickling my nose, and now that I was leaving I had no idea what to do with the cat.

"Hey Lily?" I called, as she slinked out of the bathroom, looking sour. For a moment I was a little frightened by her expression, and then one look at her eyes made me change my mind. "Er, never mind." I muttered, scooping Nala up as she meow-omphed in protest. "I'm going to ask Remus to look after Nala while Im gone, Ill be back." I glanced at her sideways, and she nodded glumly before slumping to the floor. Sooner or later she was going to want to rant about James, and boy was I glad I was leaving tomorrow.

I hopped down the stairs quickly, dashing around the last bend and tumbling into the common room. There were quite a lot of people, swarming like nesting honey bees, having farewell celebrations. For a quick moment, I felt self conscious wearing only my pajamas carrying a grumpy orange cat, but then I was past all of the crowds and darting up the stairs to the boys common room.

Although I had definitely been to the Marauder's dorm, I had some trouble finding it again. The sixth year dorms were easy to find, but the exact door proved a little more difficult. Finally I asked a small petite girl with honey colored hair who was returning from her boyfriends room. She raised her eyebrows.

"You mean, you don't know where their dorm is?" She asked incredulously. I wondered if I was supposed to, and shook my head. "Wow, I would've thought, since, you know, you and Sirius are…" She stopped and looked at me and cleared her throat. "It's number thirty-four." And then she was scurrying down the hall.

I knocked uneasily on the door, hoping Remus was in. James was the one who opened the door, and before I could speak James' mouth was open.  
"Sirius is in the shower," He monotoned, and stepped away from the door to let me in. "You can wait in here, or we will pass the message on when he is out." James deadpanned, as if he had recited this numerous times. I smiled at him, and rose as eyebrow, peering around him to see Remus lounging on his bed flipping through a magazine vacantly.

"Actually, I came to see Remus." I smiled at James surprised expression, and Remus looked up, confused. I grinned apologetically at him, walking to his bed with Nala still grasped in my arms, purring contentedly. The sandy haired boy, eyed me suspiciously.

"What do you want?" He said uneasily, and I sat at the end of his bed carefully, stroking the orange tabby's ears.  
"Well, I need someone to take care of Nala," He looked at the cat. "And Lily is a little, er, preoccupied at the moment, and Erin and Erica cant even remember to put their knickers on the right way in the morning. I would ask Sirius, but he's kind of going to Romania too, and so is James…" I trailed off, glancing up at the young werewolf hopefully. It was either Remus, or the cat was coming with me.

Remus looked surprised. "Sure," He agreed easily, scratching the back of his head and eyeing the little cat. I smiled.

"Thanks. All you have to do is feed her in the morning and give her some water." I stood up, "Ill go get her stuff to set her up." I beamed at him and walked to the door.

"Okay," Remus said. "But we're going to the kitchens real quick to get something to eat. Do I have to be here while you, uh, set her up?" He asked, and I shook my head.

"No, no. Ive got it." I left Nala in the room and ran back down the steps, hoping Lily would be healing her horrible mood.

I parted my way through the Common room, and trudged up the steps to the girls dormitory, hearing the shrill laughter of the Twins from down the hall. I smiled pleasantly at the three girls engaged in what seems to be a very vicious clobbering about Olivia Horn. The perfect thing to direct Lily's anger at; the Twins were genius'. Plus, Olivia was quite a hag, if I may say so myself.

I pondered all of the horrid qualities of Horn as I collected Nala's few items, until I realize that I was becoming one of those horrid girls who have nothing to do but bash on their classmates. I cringe for a moment internally, pausing to regain myself.

It's funny how all I ever wished for was a relatively normal existence, and now that I finally had nothing to worry about except normal problems I hated how unoriginal Ive become. I shruged the thoughts away and slid down the stair case again, walking through the crowd and up the other stairs again, getting lost again, and finding the Marauder's dorm again. I sigh when I reach the door, and let myself in as the boys had vacated the room to go eat a _second_ dinner. Honestly, where do they put all that food?

I set up Nala near the window seat, with her cat dishes and all, feeling like some immature cat lady waiting to grow up into a full grown nutter. I looked out the window, gazing at the view from this side. The snow had stopped falling miraculously. Some doors banged behind me, and I figured it was the boys returning from their snack. I swiveled around, ready to ask them if this is an appropriate spot for Nala and all, only to catch sight of Sirius, freshly out of the shower, steaming and wet, drop the towel around his waist to the floor.

I screeched with shock, my hands instinctively covering my eyes as my heart beat like a stampede. Sirius too yelped in surprise while yelling 'what the bloody hell are you _doing _here?!' Images of Sirius, completely stark naked flashed across my closed eyelids and I almost cried out again in horror.

"I-um," I stuttered, unable to form structural sentences. I heard him thrashing around, like an angry explorer hacking his way though a forest, and clutched my hands over my eyes tighter, turning my back to him for good measure.

"Just—_stay_ there." He growled, and I cringed apologetically as the cold from outside seeped through the thin glass of the window and brushed against my skin.

"Believe me, I have no intention of turning around." I muttered bitterly, fully embarrassed, and beginning to see spots because of the pressure I was applying to my eyes. There were more rustling noises, and then the sound of fabric brushing against flesh and the metal whisper of a zipper.

Sirius let out a long breath, "Okay, you can turn around now." He said morosely, and I hesitated, but decided Id rather keep my eyes covered for the rest of eternity. Sirius chuckled at my stiff posture, as I refused to move. His voice floated closer as he spoke. "Honestly, love, I'm decent now." He assured with amusement coloring his voice, all trace of mortification gone.

"I think Ill just stay here." I said uncertainly, unsure of how to react now. Maybe it would be best if I kept my face covered so he wouldn't be able to read my expression.

"Just in case I suddenly become naked again?" He laughed, and I felt the whisper of his chuckle against my neck, his body heat right behind me now. "Nice PJs by the way," He laughed again and plucked at my cotton shirt.

I glowered and lowered my hands. "Glad you enjoy them," I said dryly and turned around, unable to keep my eyes from scanning him to make sure he was in fact dressed. He smirked at me, his skin still damp and smelling of fresh soap.

"You know," He murmured, closing in on me as my knees collided with the edge of the window seat. Nowhere else to go. What the hell was he doing? "If you wanted to see me naked," he leaned down, his dark eyes shinning with mischief, his lips were brushing against the shell of my ear, and I knew exactly what he was going to say. I rolled my eyes, a little breathless as his lips now skimmed along the nape of my neck. "all you had to do was ask," Sirius' voice was seductive, low. Like a caress it sent gooseflesh up my arms and neck. Part of me waited, breathless for what he might do next, and another part fought for control, to wake up and come to my senses. But if he was trying to intimidate me, I would show him I was not so easily subdued.

I took his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his, fully expecting him to push me away, angry that I had taken control.

Instead, he lifted me to sit on the window bench, then stepped in between my legs and wrapped his arms around my body. He kissed me back, his mouth insistent, demanding. I didn't know what to do, or what he wanted from me, but merlin, I wanted to give it. I followed his lead, touching his tongue, his lips, his teeth as a liquid heat surged through my limbs. When I felt I couldn't stand the burning sensation another second, I pulled away, dropping my head back.

Sirius pressed kisses down my throat, careful to avoid a small cut from Quidditch training. When his lips and tongue assaulted the sensitive skin along my collarbone, I nearly slid off the seat. Sirius stopped, pausing with his lips now hovering over mine. I was ready to beg, to pull him by the collar of his shirt and drag him back, but I could barely breathe. His breath was raged too, and he was watching with his stormy eyes, softened by the fullness of his ebony lashes. His gaze flickered to my lips, parted, still moist, and he exhaled, lowing his face into the crook of my neck, nuzzling my hair.

"Be my girlfriend," He murmured, pressing his lips back to mine, where they belonged. I smiled against his mouth, greatly amused. What was my motto now days? Oh yes, go with the flow. I kissed him back roughly which he responded to in kind before puling back, his lips still brushing against mine as he hovered above me.

"Okay," I breathed, watching his eyes. He grinned, such an exuberant smile, and then yelped. I startled, staring at the dark haired boy, thoroughly confused as he spun around and glared at the floor. I collected myself from my melted position, sitting up straight upon the window seat, watching him. He looked back at me with raised eyebrows.

"Er, why is Nala here?" He asked, discretely shaking his leg, where the orange cat appeared to have her claws dug into calf. I grimaced and plucked her off of him.

"Remus is watching her while we're in Romania." I said, and then remembering what had happened that led to this, uh, interesting event, I added. "That's why I was up here, I was setting up Nala." I looked up at him innocently, hoping he didn't think I was sneaking up here to catch sight of him completely nude. I shuddered.

Sirius grinned, "Oh, so that was why." He smirked a crooked smile. "No wonder."

A raucous burst of laughter informed us that the rest of the Marauders had returned, and Sirius turned, hair still dripping, to the door. I continued to pet the orange cat, ridiculously relieved that Sirius and I appeared to be in an innocent position, unlike minutes earlier.

The three boys barged through the door, just as I stood, dropping Nala to the floor where she mewled disdainfully.

"Well, I should go." I supplied out loud, and smiled at Remus, brushing past Sirius a little closer than necessary. "Thanks Remus, Nala's all set up." He nodded, and glanced at Sirius behind me. I was almost at the door when a warm arm encircled my waist and pulled me back.

"See you tomorrow?" He murmured to my ear, brushing my unruly hair out of the way.

"Of course," I answered, intertwining our fingers for a moment before pushing away and continuing out the door, unsure exactly what being a girlfriend meant.

----------

My nerves were as tight as piano wires—ready to sing at the slightest pressure, and I felt I would go mad with the uneasy sick sensation that clung to me like goopy swamp moss. I had a terrible feeling about this. About this whole trip, as if I were leading everyone I loved in the dark, feeling my way through, and at the last second realized that we've stepped into a giant gaping hole. Sirius could feel how tightly I was wound, like a stretched rubber band, and he kept by my side while we waited for our mode of transportation, the school behind us cheering, the empty sky in front like a taunting threat. His simple, easy presence, like it used to feel like before our emotions became involved, was as soothing as sunshine was to a cold butterfly. His effortless, kind aura wrapped around me, engulfing me in the simplicity of comfort, and I sighed slowly, shutting my eyes as his body radiated some relief from the suppressing cold. The perks of being bound, I suppose.

Part of me wondered, though, if there was something more than just our soul bind. How else could we explain the strange sensations between our touch even before Sirius had left his fate in the murky depths of the Black lake? But I kept that out of my mind, to unfocused and frayed to be able to concentrate on one single thing. Instead, I let my thoughts drift through the meaningless chatter surrounding me.

Sirius was talking with James. He was behind me, one of his arms casually wrapped around my waist as I leaned back against him, talking to his spectacled friend about the strange Quidditch moves other countries possessed. I assumed that they had no idea what they were talking about, and were only pretending to be discussing something of actual importance, because suspiciously the names of these 'techniques' were all increasingly wild and ridiculous. At some point their conversation had morphed into a game to entertain themselves, trying to out wit the other by coming up with the most outrageous Quidditch tactics I had ever heard.

Next to me was Sheila, a seventh year Ravenclaw with amber colored hair and mossy forest green eyes. She was quivering from the cold and attempting to have a conversation with the other beater, Coalfield, but he was too preoccupied with watching Finely Chast, who was bending down to retrieve her dropped pencil while the wind blew up the tail of her skirt.

There were fourteen students going to Romania in all, seven were the actual team, which included:

Me- Chaser (Gryffindor)

Sirius Black- Chaser (Gryffindor)

Aster Epps- Chaser (Ravenclaw)

Finick Geasey- Beater (Slytherin)

Marcus Fowl- Beater (Slytherin)

Dyren Sharp- Keeper (Slytherin)

James Potter-Seeker (Gryffindor)

Which was an excellent assortment of players, I found out, during our training here at Hogwarts in the last three days. Too bad three were Slytherins.

The backup team (in case a player got injured) had two Gryffindors, Coalfield Travis, who was a beater, and Casey Rung who was a keeper, two Hufflepuffs, Finely Chast, and Bailey Sanders, who were both chasers, two Ravenclaw, Sheila Tuttle, a beater, and Holden Valque another chaser, and only one Slytherin—Daniel Gray, seeker.

All in all, there was a fair amount of diversity in the total group, but the most important fact was: Five Gryffindor total as apposed to four Slytherin. Yes, the golden lion reigns again.

In fact, McGonagall was showing a rare form of favorites towards her fellow student Gryffindors, which wasn't often. And although this was the official Hogwarts team, she still wore her robe with the golden lion patch over the breast. She too, I assumed, had counted the players up, and was seen earlier today slyly gloating to Professor Slughorn, who was obliviously confused.

"Do you think the it'll be here soon?" James asked, breaking away from his conversation with Sirius to peer from our positioned height on the Astronomy tower across the vast grounds of Hogwarts misty expanse. I shrugged, Sirius' arm bouncing with my shoulder as I moved. He too, was scanning the horizon for possible creatures, machines, carriages?—that could possibly be the way we were to get to Romania.

After a moment, boredom caused the boys to begin thinking up another game that was equally stupid, and I shivered distastefully in the cold air.

Finally, like mountains coming into view through a veil of fog, a giant round blimp floated blissfully through the mist of the morning. The chatter dropped to a low hum, like the secretive sounds of night, as everyone stared transfixed and confused at the giant air submarine. Then, like an arranged damn flow, the voices rose again like the swelling of a river after rain.

Sirius leaned his head forward, resting his chin lightly on my shoulder, his perfect nose brushing the vulnerable flesh of my neck. "Is that it, do you think?" He nodded towards the floating aircraft as if I hadn't seen it.

"What else could it be?" I asked, and rolled my head to the side so I could view the strange shape of the approaching ship. It glinted metallically in the dull light, and looked swollen like a balloon full of water.

The aircraft approached alarmingly fast, and soon two teachers were moving agilely to dock the massive blimp. With a hiss a door swung down, and McGonagall was revealed, looking wild with shiny flight goggles perched upon her sharp eyes. The students behind the line of Hogwarts Team players fell silent, and with one swift movement McGonagall waved her arm for us to board.

Sirius grinned at me as we walked over the platform between the stonewall of the Astronomy tower onto the fat bulging ship. Hogwarts burst into cheers as Dumbledore triggered the applause, and we were ushered aboard the floating air ship, waving goodbye.

I located Lily's face in the crowd, and smiled at her as I the school screamed farewell, pushing aside the uneasy feeling that engulfed me as the Hogwarts disappeared into the fog.

Within the strange blimp, it was surprisingly luxurious. There were four bathrooms total, all with showers, two floors, a kitchen, a sitting room framed by large windows, a dining room, and sleeping quarters.

The top floor, which was reached by tapping a framed painting of an old grouchy man, was reserved solely for sleeping. With two separate areas, there were cots for the boys, and cots for the girls on different sides of the gold curtains (which were yet to be tested for magical spells).

All and all though, the surroundings quickly became boring. With fourteen stir crazy children aboard a confined ship with nothing to do, McGonagall was in an increasingly bitter mood. She took out her anger during our informal lessons, which she had created a list of students that were to get detentions when we all returned to Hogwarts. And one detention was not the limit. Sirius and James had somehow managed to receive sixteen points next to their names in two days.

Since McGonagall was usually solely a Transfiguration teacher, she mostly focused on that with her actual teaching, and for other subjects we were forced to review our textbooks. Included in the daily lectures, was Quidditch training…on a blackboard. She went insane drawing out plays and moves and tactics with the white chalk. Nobody listened, obviously, but that didn't stop her.

Most of the time, we spent lounging, half between sleep and extreme tedium. Card games became so incredibly dull that no longer could we stand them. Sirius and James couldn't get away with anything mischievous aboard, because obviously everyone would know it was them, and because of that they complained like old women about how boring everything was. It was unbearable. So it was with ill patience that I counted down the days until we reached Romania. Six days. Six days…

On the night before the last day, I sat on my bed which was bolted to the floor along with all the others. Of all the beds on the girls side of the separating curtain, only one was occupied other than mine at that moment, and it was by a napping girl I couldn't see the face of. It was six o'clock, the sun was just setting and I was idly contemplating going to the wreck room in the front of the ship with all the windows, so I could watch the sun sink lower and lower until it was just a tiny orange flame on the horizon. But instead I returned to my book, a book I had read 6 times since leaving Hogwarts and could now comprehend with out actually reading. I was in hiding, of sorts, and leaving the relative safety of the 'girly side of the curtain' seemed almost certain danger.

Sirius in his never-ending boredom had turned to his last resort at entertainment: me. Unfortunately, I did not find it entertaining in the least. It was Sirius Black, and as a mousy haired Ravenclaw named Sheila Tuttle informed me, it was expected of him to be horny. Her words, not mine. I, thank the gods, have never used the word 'horny' (at least I think) in my entire life, except for just now, but that was only because I was repeating what Sheila said. So it was because of Sirius' strangeness that hid up in my dormitory.

He was male though, and he was bored, and I was a girl, and I happened to be his ( I cringe inwardly at this word) _girlfriend_. So I didn't hold it against Sirius greatly that James and him had constructed a game surrounding the routine of Sirius doing something sexual and annoying around me until I hexed him. They found it funny, I did not. But after each little stunt, Sirius would always taste the mood, sense what I was feeling and make sure he had not gone to far, and to assure me silently that this was only a cure to his boredom, not in anyway meant to disrespect me. So I let it slide, but made my curses a little more harsh than necessary.

When I heard the soft pad of footsteps, and the intrusion of Sirius' thoughts, I knew he was approaching. McGonagall had off-handedly suggested we try to communicate words to the other person through our thought connection, which we were trying, but I suspected she secretly wanted that as an advantage during our Quidditch matches. Still it was an interesting idea, and we were struggling to form our thoughts into solid sentences, while also keeping the rest of our feelings from being felt by the other person. It was complicated, and I had to completely separate any other stray thoughts from the words I was trying to communicate, but we were getting better.

I sighed as he entered, and set my book down on the mattress. He smiled at me, and with his presence I felt my stress unravel and a calm peace take its place.

"What'chu doing?" He asked, as he plopped onto my mattress, making me bounce off balance for a moment. I tried to separate the word, untangling and plugging up the rest of my thoughts.

_Nothing,_ I replied, and picked my book up to put it away. His own reply was sloppy.

_How many times have you read that?_ And I was let into his mind for a moment, our thoughts mingling because he didn't close his head to intrusion. I felt his longing, I felt his happiness, I felt his worry and everything else.

His eyes were bright as I looked into them, and I sighed. "Six times," I said, and let my body slump against the sheets. I stared at the ceiling, and slowly counted down the minutes until we would arrive. Sirius made himself comfortable beside me and remained silent. We didn't need to talk, or think thoughts at each other, just his presence was enough.

-----

The three children of Anton Bogdan stood together in a huddle against the cold of the outside snow, awaiting the last of the foreign teams. As counsel members of the student body, they were elected to see the new temporary students into their living quarters for the next month, and introduce them to other necessaries. But secretly, the three siblings chose this excruciating job of greeting the foreign schools, even if it meant waiting in the freezing cold for them to arrive. Hogwarts was the last school. And to any other child at Copar de Magie it may not be particularly exciting. But for the three children of Anton Bogdan, the Romanian Minister of Magic, there was someone they were waiting for. Or rather, were hoping for.

Ebony and Ivory were one year apart, and at the age of fifteen and sixteen now, they remembered their meeting with one particular witch very clearly. It was one of the most traumatic events of their young lives, how could they forget it? And for Adrian, at the teetering age of seventeen, on the verge of adulthood, he was in need to meet her again. To settle some things that had been untouched too long.

They, of course, with their father being so connected politically within the wizarding world, had heard of the young witch discovered less than a year ago, with her memory wiped clean. They had heard of the circumstances, of everything.

Suddenly, as Adrian thought of the young girl—how old had she been? Fourteen?—the weight of her only written record within his book bag became more prominent. He remembered how she gave it to him, almost as if she were giving away her child. Her diary, of sorts. Adrian closed his eyes against the cold wind and imagined her face, so delicate and beautiful even under all that abuse.

The three siblings hoped together silently that this girl would be coming to Romania. They wished with the desperation in which they missed their mother, who was killed on that terrifying night two years ago, two years ago and the pain still felt fresh.

When a strange metallic balloon shape appeared over the horizon, their hearts beat in harmony, and silently, without needing to speak any words to each other, they were all simultaneously imagining her. Ebony clutched at a scrap of paper in her hand, a worn piece with a scrawled year and month upon it, _1977, February _and one other word that was unfamiliar to the three siblings. Ebony remembered the girl's words when she handed her the scrap of paper. _Give this to me, if you ever see me again. Before February, I don't know the exact date. _Ebony remembered this desperate rushed sentence not because of the importance the girl stressed upon it, but because of the _if_. _If _you ever see me again. And when the dark haired girl had whispered this hurriedly as she shoved the three siblings into the walk in closet their mother housed all her dresses, it was clear that she meant _If _I live that long, not _if _we ever meet again. And that was what stuck into Ebony's memory. Now, as it approached February, 1977, that _if_ was about to be decided.

Would this young girl step off the magical blimp? Adrian, as any young male would, became somewhat infatuated with her as the months passed, as she was beautiful, young, brave, dangerous and mysterious while also being the savior of his sisters and him. Although he became more fascinated by the idea he created of her within his head than the actual person, he, along with his younger sisters wished for her to set foot off that blimp with a longing that rivaled any desire they felt before.

As the blimp approached at a surprisingly fast rate, the three siblings trembled anxiously like uncertain insects, twittering nervously in their thick warm coats. The metallic balloon glinted coldly in the pale winter sun as it grew nearer. The siblings watched quietly, each afraid to disturb the silence, this phantom hope like a cobweb around them—the slightest breath would destroy the weak fabrics of their transparent wish.  
An older woman opened a hatch as the gigantic air ship drifted closer to the earth, she held her hat on with one hand in the whistling wind that wrapped around her while yanking some cord from the outside. The three children of the Romanian Minister of Magic watched as a ramp of sorts descended and hit the ground attached to the ship just as the balloon landed on the snowy ground itself with a puff of white snow.

The supervisor, they assumed, didn't seem to see the children waiting in the snow, and they watched as she tethered the blimp magically to the ground. It was too far away to over hear, but they looked on as she cupped her worn hands around her mouth and shouted. Soon after a face appeared at the ramp, then a body, and someone emerged from the darkness of the inside. It was a boy, with dark hair and askew glasses who was fairly attractive. He seemed to talk to the woman with a lazy respect, including a sideways quirk of his mouth as he saluted her and marched back within the depths of the ship. The supervisor bent her head and shook it slowly with a twitch of a smile. As she turned around for the first time, taking in her white surroundings, she finally spotted the three student counsel members designated to lead them indoors.

Snow fell around them lazily, fluttering in large flat flakes in a slow drift as a woman they would come to know as Professor McGonagall walked towards them in the frigid air. She had a stern yet excited look about her, and they quickly took in her tightly tied back hair, hawk-like nose, disciplinary eyes, and square glasses. She smiled a tight smile as she neared, and the three siblings shared a quick conversation with the strange woman from Hogwarts, explaining their reason for being there.

Her words, in their ears, sounded exactly like their own language, and guessed that she had read the rules before arriving and placed the dialect charm upon herself and her students already. All the schools were asked to have this preformed on the all the students, so that any language spoken would automatically be filtered into the language of the listener. It helped communication and bonding when everyone was understood.

Ebony shifted, and tightened her coat around her, finally breaking the unspoken pact of silence. "Do you think she'll be aboard?" The light haired girl asked quietly, turning back to the metallic air balloon where Professor McGonagall was now trudging back to collect the rest of her students. Her brother and sister stirred beside her, seemingly waking from a long slumber.

Ivory said nothing, so it was Adrian who answered. "It's almost February 1977." He paused, glancing at his sisters, and decided not to continue. The words would come out sticky and wrong. He wanted to say that it was a little too convenient that she would turn up exactly before the date written on a torn paper. But at the same time, as he recalled the memory of her, her dark hair tangled and the tips slightly damp, her eyes wild and frightened yet still brave, she seemed so sure. She had leaned over and scribbled the date on a tiny scrap of paper and thrust it into Ebony's hands, saying as she stabbed the letters "This is important. Something bad is going to happen here," She pointed to the date again and looked up into the eyes of the three siblings, looking for an understanding. "Tell me this if you ever see me again. Give this to me if you ever see me again. Before February, I don't know the exact date."

Adrian looked back up, blinking as he saw movement up ahead. Figures emerged from the exit of the strange craft. Several at a time, all talking excitedly and zipping large coats. He squinted through the snow, watching the faces, scanning the students as they approached. Finally some arrived, they were not who he was looking for, but they introduced themselves pleasantly, and he was forced to extinguish his search momentarily to greet them. The girls greeted him a little too sweetly, and he didn't miss their appreciative glances, but he was too busy to absorb this while scanning the crowd that had gathered. His sisters glanced his way, and seeing that he was doing the search, they left it to him and began their long welcome/informative speech.

Still there was no sign of the young girl they were hoping for, and as Ebony and Ivory urged the foreigners inside, they had begun to lose hope.

"Where are Thornhill, and Black?" McGonagalls sharp voice stopped the troop, and the large group stalled momentarily.

"Relax, Professor. We're right here." A male voice said, and a dark haired handsome boy stepped out of the crowd with an easy presence. He grinned lazily at McGonagall and tugged another person out of the crowd, nearly making the girl bump into Adrian. She looked up apologetically, and Adrian felt as if the world stilled. There she was, the same girl. Her dark blue eyes, and flawless skin, and dark hair, her strange aura, the brave tilt of her chin, the distant detached way she held herself. This was her, this was the girl. He forgot everything; his brain became swollen with nothing else but her. She said something to McGonagall, her arm almost brushing him as she moved.

As the group started moving again, his sisters leading the foreigners, she glanced back at him, her depthless eyes, as she was towed forward by the black haired boy. She seemed so different, and yet the same. Maybe it was the situation that was so different. He knew she would not remember.

"Im Ardian," He said, in what he hoped desperately was a casual tone.

"Kira," She replied with a small smile that seemed unfamiliar upon her features, yet still effortlessly beautiful. And then she passed him, and he allowed himself, as she disappeared, to dive into the memory of when his mother died.


	17. Adjusting

Sirius Black, for some unknown reason, became an addiction, a need, the instant I stepped off that blimp. One moment, I was fine. The next, an overwhelming panic attack was making me feel as if my head was full of helium gas and at any moment I would float away into the endless atmosphere. Maybe because there was something in the air, some strange omen hovering around the school that made me feel as if I might suffocate. Or maybe it was my own brain, contorting images of the stone school in front of me, but it felt…it felt as if I had seen this place before. Whether in vision form, or real life, I didn't know—couldn't know.

It was getting dark when we arrived, but the stars were concealed by the endless fluttering of large flat snowflakes. I held Sirius' hand tightly, staring at the snow as it drifted onto the ground near my feet and disappeared into the endless white glow of the snow around. I focused on breathing, on inhaling the cold, crisp air. I concentrated on the warm body beside me. That seemed to help. He left his thoughts open for me, and his mind was as warm as the glow of summer sun bathing over me flesh. The inner workings of Sirius' mind were relaxed, with an underlying worry that he hid from me. Thoughts never formed sentences, people didn't think in sentences—humans thought in pictures, in images, in disjointed words and feelings that all made sense only to that brain. That was why it was so hard for Sirius and I to form coherent streams of words for the other person—to single something out from our messily organized minds. But I wasn't trying to decipher the code of Sirius' thoughts, I was simply riding them, drifting along in their pleasant simple current. It kept me tethered to the planet while McGonagall was marching us towards the tiny group of three waiting at the entrance of a large clover shaped stone archway.

As we came closer their faces were becoming clearer, and the features were obviously those of siblings. Two younger ones, sisters, one with dark hair, the other's was light as the sun, but their noses sloped the same way, their eyes shone the same swampy green, their height, and figure, body build and the way they each seemed to lean on each other as if they were always together. The older boy, their brother I assumed, was taller and standing behind them. I could feel the girls around me flittering around him with their eyes, itching to be closer. He was nervous looking, with the same dark hair as one of the girls, with the same green eyes and the same subtitle nose and jaw. All of their eyes were searching, searching for something, and the more I watched them the more my head hurt, as if some deep distant thing was trying to resurface from the depths of the locked doors within my head. It kept banging against my skull, trying to make it out. I looked away, a sudden new spike of panic rising in my throat. I felt on edge, nervous, anxious. I felt as if I were waiting. For what? The question rang through my ears and vibrated through the link between Sirius and I. He heard it, felt it, and pulled us both to a stop.

James was up ahead, stalking Finnick Geasey because we heard the boy talking about Lily upon the ship. No one noticed as Sirius and I stowed away silently within the blue shadows of the night. Just around the side of the protruding rim of the Clover doorway. The rest of the students filed inside, I could still hear them, but I rested my back against the cold, heartless wall, closing my eyes against any light.

Sirius' silent worry made me open my eyes again. His eyes glinted in the shadows of the darkness, reflecting the little light filtering out of the archway. His hair was dark and casually messy, his jaw hard and straight. He looked sad, as if something great had been stolen from him right under his nose.

"Sorry," I sighed and leaned my head against the wall also in a sign of exhaustion. "Im being a downer, aren't I?" I tried to keep the fatigue out of my voice, but I felt too drained and hollow to try completely. Sirius reached up, a small smile upon his perfect lips, creating the dimple in the side of his cheek. He swiped the hair aside from my eyes, letting his hand linger on the side of my face. His hand was warm and comforting, I felt better with his soothing body so close.

"You can't help what you're thinking, Kira." He said, and I frowned at the softness in which me muttered my name. How many times do I have to suffer under the knowledge that I don't deserve even the air he breathes? I imagined all the different faces I could have killed over the years, all the pain and misery. I let Sirius watch, I let him watch as slowly the images and pictures became more brutal—not memories, imagination, but still the message was clear.

"Okay, stop." He said forcefully after a full minute. I immediately felt sorry, regretful, and I became impassive, watching the echo of pain I had created for him in those images. If he couldn't handle the fiction—the idea—what would happen if I ever got my memories back? What would happen if he saw the real thing? In my emotional state, I felt like crying.

Sirius encircled my waist with his arms, the heat he provided bathed my front and I buried my nose in his shoulder, relishing in the comfort of this position while it lasted. How long until he ran away from me and my rotting interior? There wasn't much left within me but decay. I felt as if I might cave in on my hollow body, collapse after enduring so much, all because I could not refrain from betraying even myself.

"I don't know what's going on with you right now," He said quietly in my ear. "But whatever it is, know that you can tell me," Sirius murmured, his warm breath becoming caught in the insulation of my hair. I swallowed. I would tell him, I would, if only I knew what was wrong. Part of the panic was this unbearable confusion.

He pulled back then, regarding my limp self for a moment before cautiously leaning forward to press his lips against my cold mouth. My heart thumped languidly, too exhausted to hammer away any faster. Sirius moved slowly as he bent his head, and I felt excitement wash over me, flushing out everything else. He hovered for a moment, hesitated, giving me a chance to pull away, and then his smooth lips pressed lightly against mine.

Soft lips, wet tongue, warm skin, the pleasant smell of his flesh against mine, the gratifying tingle down my spine, the lightness within my head. And suddenly the entire world fell away, Sirius' hand moved to cup my cheek, his fingers tracing delicately down the curve of my jaw. Warmth spread through me from the inside, as if he were blowing on hot embers deep within my stomach. Nothing else mattered and no one else existed. It was just the two of us alone in the universe, under this starless, hopeless sky. And I felt okay. I felt better and free and distracted.

As he shifted, pushing urgently against me, my back pressed up against the wall with my hands inside his coat pockets, I wondered for one wild moment if this could be considered a medicine for the heavy heart. He made everything else around me evaporate, the world faded away, I lost my train of thought, my worries and concerns disappeared, nothing else mattered except for Sirius.

I felt much better. My breathing was heavy as he dipped his lips to my neck in a equally out of breath motion, and I rolled my head to the side and tried not to make a sound. My chest was rising and falling rapidly, my heart was expanding and deflating, and I felt as if I were melting into the snow.

"Sirius," I exhaled. I wanted to say, thank you, I wanted to tell him how much I cared for him, how much I needed him, and how much I appreciated this distraction. He nibbled on my ear, and in the distance I heard the sharp voice of McGonagall call: "Where are Thornhill and Black?"

Instantly, we both froze. Sirius lifted his head, his eyes were sparkling and his expression held exhilaration. He watched me for a moment, breathing heavily still, and pulled me close before dragging us off the few feet until we reached the edge of the Hogwarts students.

"Relax Professor, we're right here." Sirius drawled lazily, as if he couldn't believe McGonagall would think he was off somewhere else. I watched him, wondering if there were any signs of what we had been doing. I licked my lips, tasting Sirius there, and held his eyes conspiringly as his gaze flicked back to me with a wicked grin.

He tugged me through the crowd to the front, as proof to McGonagall that we were here. I almost bumped into the brother of the two sisters, his tall frame towered above every one else. McGonagall watched us sternly.

"Im merely making sure you two haven't wondered off yet. Both of you seem to have a knack for disappearing at important times." She was, of course, referring to all the times we had gotten into trouble, like the cabinet that dropped us into a well, and the full moon where we both almost got mauled by a werewolf, and the snake mirror. She didn't trust us. Sirius knew this too, but he smiled crookedly at her and feigned being hurt.

"Dear McGonagall, you wouldn't be suggesting that we are off canoodling in dark corners are you? Im quite offended." I frowned at the back of his head, considering the word 'canoodling'. There was a soft tidal of giggles through the team, and I hoped all of them knew it was a joke. Even though, in this case, it might have been true. But it depends on the meaning of the word 'canoodling'.

"No, I am simply referring to the fact that you two have a knack for being where you are not supposed to. If I am correct, there have been several incidents that ended badly for both of you in the past months, all of which I have had to deal with the consequences."

"Hey," Sirius seemed enflamed for some reason, I watched him closely wondering what was wrong, feeling the edges of his anger like the shallows of a deep lake. "If I remember correctly, Kira _saved_ my arse on the first 'incident' and we are dealing with the after math, not you." He meant the bond of course, and I was glad he used the word 'after math' and not McGonagall's word of 'consequence'. "And on the last one," the mirror. "I believe she saved the entire school's arse." He seemed to realize he was becoming angry, and immediately withdrew, reclaiming his calm. He continued with a joking, lazy grin only I knew was untrue. "Please excuse the minor corrections to your accusation, professor." He said with mock formality. "I felt I needed to add those minor details." He deflated again and recovered his serene demeanor. I didn't feel at all proud that he had said those things. I wanted to shrink away.

McGonagall's stare was piercing, but she seemed to soften some at the fierceness in Sirius' defense. "Even so, Mr. Black, I would like both of you to promise," she glanced at the rest of the Hogwarts students as if realizing they were still there. "and all of you, as a matter of fact, that you will behave and remain out of danger whenever possible."

Something deep within me told me that wasn't going to be achievable for the majority of the standing people here today. As the rest of the Hogwarts Quidditch team chorused 'we promise' half-heartedly, I remained silent.

"Im sorry," I said to McGonagall while everyone was distracted. I didn't want to lie to her. She frowned; deep wrinkles appearing near her mouth, and turned on her heal towards the two sisters, who appeared to be leading the way. As everyone started moving again, I glanced up at the boy next to me. He was the foreign brother; he seemed desperate for a moment.

"Im Adrian," He introduced, nodding. I felt Sirius' hand intertwine through my fingers, and I smiled at the warmth and comfort it provided.

"Kira," I replied as Sirius towed us away into the churning sea of fellow Hogwartians.

---

Copar de Magie was very round. The entire school itself was built around an extremely grand Quidditch pitch, so naturally all the hallways were curved to fit that shape, but also, all of the classrooms, dorms, and every room in general was round. It was strange how much a circular room changes the atmosphere of the surroundings. With those strange curved rooms, there were no corners to separate myself from the crowd, nowhere to hide, only smooth endless wall. I felt slightly trapped at first.

After our tour of the grounds, the two sisters, Ebony and Ivory they introduced, lead us up to the magically enlarged dorms for the foreign teams. Of course, the dorm rooms were round, also the beds, and even the rugs and windows. Our stuff was already piled onto the beds, five per room, and instead of separate boys and girls dormitories, there were just charms on each doorway to keep the opposite sex out.

Within the depths of Sirius' mind, he was already thinking up ways to overcome these jinxed doors.

The Great Hall of sorts for Copar de Magie was like being in an extremely grand dome. The ceiling had intricate gold plating pressed into crisp beautiful designs, and the entire hall was lit so brightly and brilliantly I wondered why the sun was out so late. In the center of the grand circular room was an immense magical bubble, hovering inches above the ground, with a wondrous crackling fire within it. Above this strange heater, was a table. It was the professors' table, and the table was floating in mid air, the teachers, staff and headmistress wobbling expertly upon hovering chairs, laughing and drinking merrily.

The rest of the room was filled with smaller, white marble tables which were round (of course) and stabilized firmly upon the ground. There were at least one hundred of these, which sat about eight per table. The room was huge, and there were more students, teachers, people, Quidditch players, and excitement in this one room than I had ever seen in my entire life. This school seemed to be at least ten times the size of Hogwarts, and fairly new too. The building was made of well polished marble, stone and other expensive materials, unlike the crumbling ancient Hogwarts castle.

Ebony, Ivory, and Adrian, the three siblings who were our official tour guilds led us further in, and pointed out some key aspects. Strange paper creatures, almost like origami, were whizzing around the air above all the people, delivering plates of delicious smelling food. One wizard, with teacher robes, walked straight into the flame bubble, in the center of the room, and everyone gasped in horror until Ivory informed us that was how the teachers traveled to their table, and then we watched with interest as the professor floated up to the table within the fire bubble. The large globule rose and popped as the man sat upon his floating chair with an explosion of harmless sparks no one paid any mind, and the enormous bubble reappeared down below, with the same crackling fire.

We were ushered in and sat at various tables. Some students in different, colorful uniforms of all sorts came up to greet us, asking if we were from Hogwarts and asking us what position we played. Some were friendly, others seemed unpleasant and scheming.

Sirius sat on my right, and it was impossible not to see the looks he was receiving from the females around us. James, on my left, was receiving a similar reaction, and Sirius also seemed to be battling against the many appreciative glances I too was acquiring.

It was rather annoying, and several times Sirius swore at anyone who dared approach us with more than friendly intentions. Ebony and Ivory sat across from us, as the other members of our eight person table, their brother was missing, sitting with his friends across the hall. With us also, sat two Ravenclaw girls, who were having their own conversation.

"What are your names? It seems rather silly that we don't know any of the names of the Hogwarts Students. With the other teams we had more time to introduce ourselves because they arrived earlier." Ebony said amiably, taking a bite of something strange looking. Our food had been delivered several minutes before. I didn't feel like answering, the effort of opening my mouth and replying seemed suddenly exhausting and it was James who answered, with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"James Potter," He said arrogantly, then pointed to me, "Kira Thornhill," Both of the sisters stared at me intently, and then looked away. James lifted his arm over my head to point to Sirius. "And this is Sirius Black."

They nodded warmly, glancing back at me with a strange unreadable expression. Sirius seemed to notice this too, whether from mine or his own observation. He suddenly shifted moving himself to obscure their view of me slightly. _I don't like them. _He thought heatedly glaring unnecessarily at them. I pushed aside their strange behavior, and nudged Sirius away from me, feeling irrationally irritated at him for caring that much.

_Stop being rude._ I pushed my fork across the plate of food in front of me, arranging the meal so it looked like I had eaten more. Unfortunately, with the connection I just forged with Sirius to let him hear my message, he saw in the split second it took me to retract and block my thoughts from him that I hadn't been eating. I groaned inwardly at his outraged expression.

_We're not leaving until you eat. You need to eat, you've been feeling off lately, food will make you better. _He thought fiercely, and I saw through his mind that he was reviewing the image of me several months earlier when I had first stopped eating.

His threat, however valiant made me angry. And I pushed my plate away and answered aloud, unwilling to let him into my thought for fear he might see something else I didn't want him to.

"I'll do whatever I want." I said and sat up, the ceremony had ended; people were filing out to hit the sack, dragging their feet up to their beds. "Good-night." I muttered, and walked out of the hall, following the other foreigner to the dorms.

---

Sirius sighed heavily and dropped his head to the smooth tabletop.

"S'all right mate. What the hell happened?" James muttered quietly, sliding closer to his friend as Kira swept out of the hall. James glanced at her as she reached the doorway, momentarily worried by the self-destructive gleam in her eyes, and then back to his friend. He hated when Sirius and Kira had these silent conversations, it made him feel left out.

Sirius groaned and shook his head, reluctant to answer in front of Ebony and Ivory, who were watching them with intense, hungry interest, and the other two Ravenclaw girls, who had looked up curiously. His dark hair fell over his crystal grey eyes and flawless flesh, concealing his agonized expression. He wished Kira would let him worry about her, would let him care for her.

Sirius stood up, and waited for James to also. Once they were walking down the pristine palestine corridors, towards the dorms, Sirius looked at his concerned friend. "She's stopped eating again" he said, in way of explanation. "Something's wrong. I don't know what, but she wont tell me. Don't know if she even knows herself." He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair as they reached the round large room that had eight different doorways to eight different branches. James looked worried for a moment, but became distracted by his surroundings. This round room, located within the center of the different dormitories, was like the school common room, and almost everyone was out mingling excitedly and suspiciously with each other, in anticipation for the upcoming Quidditch Championship.

Sirius and James spotted Kira immediately, talking rather unwontedly with a rambunctious blonde girl. Kira looked trapped and uncomfortable—the perfect circumstance to approach her.

James, suddenly distracted by the appearance of Finnick, dashed off again to track him down. Sirius stood at the entrance of this room for a moment, leaning against the doorframe watching Kira shift and laugh unconvincingly. A smile tugged at his perfect lips.

"Hello!" He started, glancing wildly towards the intruder. A bright eyed, auburn haired girl blinked back, her head tilted to the side, with an unnaturally wide smile across her face. Sirius shifted a bit, glancing at Kira who was now looking pained by her own conversation.

"Er—hi." Sirius said shiftily. The girl beamed at him, but said nothing. Sirius raised his eyebrows, but she made no movement towards talking. It was almost as if she was trying to block his view of Kira who he was trying to watch discretely. "Uh, what do you want?" He asked uncertainly, seeing over the strange girls head as she bobbed on her tip toes trying to shield his view that a boy had just approached Kira and the other girl she was talking to had disappeared. His expression darkened.

"Excuse me," he muttered, trying to push past the creepy wide-eyed girl. She squawked strangely and lunged at him, gripping Sirius' lean forearm. Bewildered, and for a moment distracted, he looked back at her perplexed. But her eyes were on something else.

Sirius spun around; just in time to see the boy Kira was reluctantly engaging in conversation lunge at her. Sirius was shocked as the boy grabbed her face and before Kira could so much as blink, shove his lips against hers. Against Kira's. Against _his_ girlfriends.

Fire flooded through Sirius's veins and he was about to charge like an explosive bull, but the irritating girl yanked his arm and he spun on her, ready to toss her aside like a rag doll.

But Kira shoved the boy off of her, and in her anger her thoughts became free. But they were blank and wordless with rage. With one mighty shove she thrust the boy off of her, and with the same movement of her hands she had him dangling ten feet in the air clutching his throat and thrashing his feet. Her eyes were blank, dark, almost as if she was in an anger-induced trance.

_Kira! _Sirius shouted in his mind. She was strangling the boy, just as she had done with Sirius many times before, and although, Sirius thought darkly, the boy deserved being strangled, he wasn't keen on killing anyone on their first night. Kira blinked, jumped, stared at the boy choking in mid-air, and then dropped her hand quickly.

Sirius shoved aside the girl blocking his way, and walked towards the dark bewildered girl. The room was loud with chatter and yells and screams and laughter. Two boys, as Sirius passed where chuckling and saying. "…Maybe we shouldn't have dared him to, definitely didn't know she was gunna strangle the lad." They laughed again.

Sirius bent low to whisper in Kira's ear, a smile on his face. He was no longer upset now that the offender was clearly punished. "You all right?" He asked amusedly. She snapped her head to look at him. She looked shaken, but otherwise unharmed.

In one swift, unexpected movement, she pressed her lips desperately against his, holding his face close with her hands. Her soft lips lingered upon his, sweet and delicate, moving with languid slowness.

"Sorry," she breathed pausing, and Sirius couldn't fathom why in the world she would apologize. "He tasted like cigarettes." He bent his head to kiss her again quickly, and she smiled against his lips.

Sirius pulled away after a moment and walked over to the boy, who was gasping spread eagle on the floor, stunned. Sirius bent over him, and stuck out a hand to help him up. He could afford to be generous now that he was clearly shamed, and now that he knew the younger boy had been dared by some unfriendly prats. The boy coughed and took Sirius' outstretched palm, standing uncertainly to his feet. He stared at Kira incredulously, who was now speaking to a grinning James.

"Did she just use wandless magic?" He choked out, and Sirius grinned and clapped the boy on the back.

"Mate, you have no idea. She used to do that to me every other day," With one last grin, Sirius left the stunned crowd and walked back to Kira. Sirius wrapped his arm around her slender waist, and they both left the room with a significantly larger amount of attention than when they had entered.

------

I sat up with a start, feeling the panic of my dream fade away and the gloom of another day settled over me like fog descending into a valley. I sighed tiredly, and flopped back against the many pillows of my unfamiliar bed. Reflexively I let my mind reach out for Sirius', finding him still asleep soundly, dreaming of Quidditch. I let myself travel through his dream for a moment, following the drift and exhilaration of his unconscious thoughts, enjoying the simplicities of his fantasies.

I groaned quietly as the beginning of headache squeezed my brain, and I retracted myself from Sirius, not wanting to wake him up with the dull pain of my nuisance. I was positive, that whatever was bothering me was a vision I must have had before my memory was wiped clean. It must have been a strong one, a powerful one, to make me feel nauseous when the event began to approach, as if a warning. But it was useless, this warning, if I couldn't remember what the danger was.

I yanked my wand out from under the soft pillow with ill-thought out resolve, placing the tip to my temple. I concentrated on the feeling, the horrid half knowledge of something dangerous looming over the horizon, and slowly used my wand to extract it from my mind. Silvery strings, like smoke, wisped from the end of my wand and I held the little half memory within my palm before closing my fingers around it, killing the useless remembrance.

Only after the silvery extraction was pulled from my mentality and dead, did it cross my mind that maybe it could have been useful, however uncomfortable.

--

"Please?"

"No,"

"Pretty Please?" Sirius fluttered his eyelashes in a vein attempt at persuasion.

"No," I replied tonelessly, turning into the main hall, and plopping onto a seat next to James who was already stuffing his face with breakfast foods.

"But the hot springs are what is so cool about this mountain range!" Sirius said enthusiastically, in kind of a nerdy way. "Years and years ago this mountain was an active volcano, and now the magma deep beneath the earth is heating up water pockets that bubble to earth to create a relaxing, nature made hot tub that—"

"I know, I know!" I sighed. "You already explained this, Sirius." He frowned, folded his arms over his chest and sulked in his seat. I rolled my eyes tiredly, and looked around the hall. There were quite a bit of people, all eating and chatting casually. It was our third day at Copar de Magie, yesterday had been spent exploring ( which was how Sirius found out about these…hot springs) and catching up on some assignments teachers back home had given us to do while we were gone. Today we would be starting lessons with Copar de Magie students, and then in the afternoon we would be doing four hours of Quidditch practice. Four _hours. _It sounded horrid.

Sirius was following the trail of my thoughts broodingly. "Just think about it Kira, after training, when we're all cold and tired, sinking into the warm, _soothing_, water of natures greatest creation---the relaxing Jacuzzi…" He trailed off hopefully, and I felt myself losing resolve with his childlike desire to go to this ridiculous hot spring.

"You know," I looked up to a proper looking girl sitting at the same table with her hands folded neatly in front of her. "The hot springs _are _rather fantastic, if I may say so myself. A bit of a hike, and technically students aren't supposed to visit them during weekdays, but still excellent all the same. Definitely worth looking into," She looked at me expectantly over her red rimed glasses, as if she were a teacher expecting an answer to a homework question.

All I could think was: _Who the hell is this girl?_

_No clue,_ Sirius replied easily. _But she has a fantastic point. What do you say? Please?_

I sighed and laid my head upon the smooth stone surface of the table. _I didn't bring a swim suit. _

"That doesn't matter!" Sirius burst out loud, scooting closer to me on the marble bench. The girl across from us seemed rather perplexed and startled. "You could just where your knickers, you know I don't mind," He grinned wolfishly, and the glasses eyed girl looked even further confused. James gave a long suffering sigh to my right and looked across at her.

"You get used to it, all these _inward_ conversations," He muttered irritably. The girl still appeared confused, but now looked at us with interest. We ignored them both.

_I refuse to go into a public place clad in only my knickers. I thought you knew me better. _

_How about tonight then? We could sneak out; just the two of us, after everyone else is asleep. _

"The problem about that, is when everyone else is sleeping, I would also rather be asleep," He slumped deeper in his chair, pouting. Sirius looked over after a moment, and smiled silkily.

_For me?_

_No. _

"Oh come _on," _He pleaded, holding my hand dramatically within his own. "It'll be fun,"

"Just ignore them," James told the stranger across the table knowledgably, with vigor earnest. Sirius patted his friend on the back consolingly. He looked back at me.

"Please," He whispered, and I sighed.

_Tonight._ I agreed silently, and he grinned victoriously but remained quiet.

As we finished the unfamiliar breakfast food, and readied for the long day ahead, with me dreading every moment of Quidditch training in the cold, McGonagall approached us somberly. It took a moment, in my distracted state, to realize something was wrong with the features on Professor McGonagall's face. Instead of her usual stern and critical look, there was a worried, anxious appearance to her expression. She was looking at Sirius, with…what was it? Pity? He seemed rather perplexed.

"Why helllloo Professor!" He drawled easily, although his eyes watched her cautiously. He flung an arm around my shoulders and leaned on me, keeping me from continuing on my way. I halted and watched Sirius's face out of the corner of my eyes.

"Hello, Sirius." She replied stridently, stretching her neck. _Sirius?_ She said his first name, this was definitely a bad sign. Worry tightened within my stomach. I glanced at McGonagall apprehensively. "If you don't mind, I'd like a word with you." She glanced at James and I, and added as an after thought: "Privately."

As Sirius and Professor McGonagall walked out of the Entrance Hall, James and I exchanged a worried look. "What do you think is wrong?" He whispered to me as we both sat unsteadily back in our seat.

"I have no clue," I admitted blankly, staring at the door where Sirius had disappeared. I was watching him through his thoughts, but quite suddenly, without any explanation, he blocked his mind from me. I frowned, and turned back to the table, where the red glasses girl looked at us with confusion.

I pressed forward with my thoughts, pushing on the barrier Sirius had formed around his notions, until quite suddenly, the solid wall dissolved. It was only for a split second that Sirius released his thoughts, and in that confused moment, there were so many emotions. Anger, sadness, disbelief, loneliness, misery…. I stood up abruptly, just as Sirius sealed his head from me again, and started towards the door.

McGonagall burst back into the hall right as I was about to thunder through the double doors and drag Sirius into an empty classroom and force him to tell me what was going on. But McGonagall was quick, and as I tried to slide past her, she caught my sleeve and pinned me with a patronizing stare.

"You, I believe, have classes to attend. Sirius is excused for the day, and he expressed the want to be alone at the moment, and I expect you to honor that." She glared sternly at me, and I was forced into reluctant submission by the strange sadness in her eyes.

--

I spent the morning carefully monitoring any sign from Sirius. True to his excuse, he did not come to classes, and I was forced to sit with James. At least we had the common ground of worry to ease any awkwardness between us, because after carefully reviewing my pathetic stock of memories, I found that only once had I been with James alone, and that once had been very minimal. So the base of our conversations were centered around Sirius, and our silent, uneasy worry for him.

Unused to seeing me without my dark haired counter part, people seemed to find it strange that suddenly, the attractive young man that had been at my side for the last three solid days was no where to be found.

Stumbling through my new classes, while struggling to find the correct classrooms, I still managed to keep a constant mental flow to Sirius, but he remained stonily empty and cold. It was frustrating, and I felt oddly lonely at the lack of presence within my thoughts.

The teachings were strange at this school, but the students of Copar de Magie seemed to find it regular. It was with relief that at lunch break James and I trekked to the dormitories and while I stood outside (because I was a girl, and was unable to cross the threshold of the room) James went in to talk to Sirius.

When James Potter returned looking reluctant and grim, I was ready to jump him and shove bamboo shoots under his fingernails to torture the information out of him. But James, with nervous glances in my direction, told me solemnly that Sirius didn't want him to tell me, and that Sirius wanted to be alone. I deflated, feeling as if Sirius had physically attacked me, or shoved me into a pit of freezing water.

I walked away miserably, feeling that whatever was wrong had something to do with me, that Sirius no longer wanted to see me again, that he somehow now hated me. This feeling of being unwanted swelled within me and stung ridiculously. It hurt my heart and twisted within my stomach like some dark disgusting beast, whispering horrid things in my ear.

But I knew that Sirius was upset, and that he probably didn't mean any harm when he had said he didn't wish to see me. If Sirius wanted to be left alone, then I would leave him alone, and if he didn't want to see me, then I wouldn't see him.

The rest of the day was exhausting and horrible. I went to the classes, got lost, got sneered at by some unpleasant people, snapped at the friendly people, felt ill, and then after all of that, I remembered I had Quidditch training.

Walking to the Hogwarts pitch, I wanted to roll into a ball and disappear. It didn't help that James was there, a traitor, and that the whole team seemed generally happy, and almost everyone asked what was wrong with Sirius. It also didn't help that I couldn't answer.

I used the rushing wind, the exhausting drills, and boring instructions to dull my mind and numb my thoughts. McGonagall shouted tactics from her own broom, and on a better day I would have sniggered with Sirius at the sight.

Only when the cold was making my chapped fingers bleed from holding the broom so tight, and night had fallen, were we allowed to leave. As I walked back to the dorms, exhausted and drained, I realized dully that Sirius was watching me, he was present in my mind, but wouldn't let me enter his own thoughts. I gave up quickly, letting him see the misery I was drowning in while dragging my feet to the round central common room.

Many students were chatting there, having fun, playing with their friends after a day of school. Some were arriving just like me, cold and tired clad in Quidditch gear. I walked straight for the sixth stair case, trudged up four floors, passed five doors, and finally came to the dorm room I shared with two other strangers.

One of my two roommates was sleeping, the other, no where to be found. I walked quietly to my trunk, pulling out toiletries before walking to the shower exhaustedly. The washroom was extremely small, but very extravagant. I could not for the life of me figure out how to change the temperature of the water, so within a few minutes of struggling I sighed and resigned myself for a cold shower.

I was shivering more violently as I walked out of the small bathroom, and I wrapped the towel around my front tightly, knotting the front. My limbs ached and my mind floundered around the soft lure of sleep while I fumbled through my clothing, selecting my sleepwear for the night. I paused in the center of the room, feeling drained and sure that the sleeping girl to my left wouldn't wake, but still uncomfortable changing with strangers in the room.

The curtains around my round bed were already down, like a giant circus tent, and I clambered inside to yank on my clothing. But as I looked up, I froze, because there lounging on my temporary bed was Sirius Black.

I lifted my wand, muttering _lumos_ to see him better. "Sirius?" I asked, squinting at him. He said nothing, just watched me silently. He looked quiet and solemn sitting there, still in his school clothes from this morning.

I crawled up towards him, all my anger washing away. He looked so sweet, so vulnerable. I beamed at him, leaning over him to press my lips softly to his. I nibbled on his bottom lip, smiling because he was here, with me.

After a moment his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close, and with slow realization I remembered I wasn't exactly dressed. "You're freezing, Kira," He mumbled and I pulled away reluctantly, dragging my body up to retrieve my forgotten pajamas.

"How did you get in here?" I asked suddenly, remembering that the doorways disallowed boys from entering. I looked at him, motioning for him to cover his eyes, and he obliged obediently.

He shrugged as I let my towel drop, feeling only slightly exposed as I dragged on my shirt over my head. "I turned into my animangus form." He said, and I paused for a moment, turning towards him curiously.

"Is that how you sneak into the girls dormitories back at Hogwarts?" I asked, with a sly smile in his direction. His mouth opened and closed, then a confused expression settled over his features.

"I haven't gone into the girls dorms since last year. How did you know about that?" He asked, slightly embarrassed. I grinned at him, pulling up my knickers.

"It was quite a scandal, apparently. Those girls are scarred for life," I smiled, relishing in how much my mood changed just because he was here. I wanted to ask him what was wrong, why he didn't go to classes, but I stopped myself because he would tell me. Eventually. And right now, I was getting a smile out of him.

He laughed, spreading his fingers that covered his eyes to peak at me, and upon seeing me fully clothed he dropped his hand. I scooted back up to him, diving under the covers to warm myself. I looked over at him, watching his profile as he puzzled over something in his head.

"Why are you here Sirius?" I asked quietly, lifting my hand to trace his jaw line lightly with my thumb. His face was shadowed in the dull light, and he closed his eyes for a moment before turning his face towards mine. Sirius' eyes were soft and slightly sad.

"I came to tell you that you're off the hook with the hot springs tonight." I laughed lightly, trying to hide my relief and that I had completely forgotten.

"I cant tell you I'm disappointed," I said, and he smiled. We lay in silence for a moment, listening to the sound of my dorm mate sleeping.

"My uncle died," Sirius said abruptly, and I turned to him, confused. Didn't Sirius hate his family? "He left me everything, I was the only one in his will," He continued quietly. I stayed silent, watching him, waiting. "He was one of the only one's in my family I got along with, and now he's dead. They didn't even tell me about his funeral, it happened months ago." They, I knew, meant his family. It made my heart feel heavy to know that Sirius had lost one of his only companions in the long line of Blacks.

He turned to me. "That's why I didn't go to classes today." He seemed sad now, and he lifted a hand to my cheek. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings by not telling you sooner…I just…" But he didn't need to explain, I knew, and understood.

"It's okay," I said softly, propping myself up on my elbows to look down on him. I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling privileged to be doing so. His skin smelled fresh and clean, like crisp morning air, and his hair felt like satin. I buried my nose in his shoulder, inhaling as his strong arms wrapped around me.

I thought about his uncle dying, about how unfair death was, and how I would die, too, leaving misery in my wake. I was suddenly both intensely glad and jealous that while I died on May 3rd, Sirius would survive, and live on. He would graduate from Hogwarts, he would grow older with James and Lily, play more jokes with his Marauder friends, he would get a job and buy a house, he would attend his best friend's wedding, and be present for the birth of James' first son, he would help fight this rising war against the dark lord, and maybe, maybe he would even fall in love. Maybe he would find someone else after my bones were rotting deep beneath the earth.

The thought stung more than it should have, and only the notion that I had him now, I had Sirius for right now at least, calmed me. But it wasn't enough, it wasn't enough. I wanted longer than now, and suddenly I felt desperate for more. More of Sirius.

I kissed his neck slowly at first, inhaling the tast of his skin. My lips moved feverishly against his throat, his collarbone, the curve of his jaw. He let out a breath of surprise, his arms falling limp around me as I pushed myself closer, closer, closer. It wasn't close enough. I pulled my body on top of him, sitting on his chest, leaning down to taste his lips, his mouth; explore every inch of his face and hair with my hands. He kissed me back, confused at first, but quickly forgetting about any puzzlement as our bodies took control and our minds fell behind in the heat of desire. If I could only have him now, then I wanted all of him.

One of his warm hands cupped my neck pulling me closer, deeper into his kiss, and his other arm wrapped around my waist, his warm flesh burning mine through the thin fabric of my camisole. Suddenly the clothing separating us was the enemy, and my hands fumbled with the tiny buttons of Sirius' shirt, my fingernails hurriedly working on ripping them apart. Sirius' mouth left mine for a moment, he looked into my eyes and I stared back with silent need, and sensing my desperation his hands stilled mine as he undid his shirt and threw it aside. My lips found his throat again, my hands roaming the contours of his chest as he leaned back into the pillows of my bed and groaned quietly.

I felt feverish, like I was burning up, heat filled my body and made my breathing desperate. I moved down his chest, trailing hot, open-mouthed kissed across his bare torso, the warm flesh of his toned stomach moving erratically with his breathing. I paused at the waist band of his pants, as his hands intertwined in my hair and stopped me. I could see his uncertainty resurfacing, his confusion at my sudden desire.

I moved up his body quickly, pressing my lips against his feverishly to silence any attempt to talk. His doubt forgotten as my mouth softly explored his own, his hands brushing the exposed skin of my back and hips. I sighed into him, melting against his lips and body. Sirius' hands roamed up my back, sweeping softly over my flesh. I pulled away from him reluctantly, sucking his lip as I sat up, grabbing the rim of my shirt to pull it over my head and toss it aside.

Sirius' eyes caught mine, and I watched him as his gaze dropped and lingered on the black bra, on my bare shoulders and exposed torso. His hands grazed my flesh, brushing up my sides.

"What are we doing Kira?" He asked, and I could see that he sensed an ulterior motive beneath my raged breathing. I bent down and pressed my lips lingeringly against his, savoring his taste and smell. His hands slid up and held my cheeks, keeping me from deepening the kiss.

"Nothing," I murmured against the base of his throat, and in one fluid movement Sirius had captured my wrists with his hands, and flipped us gently so that I was suddenly beneath him. I gazed up at him, my chest pumping rapidly, his eyes were questioning and dark.

"Kira," He murmured, a warning. When I remained silent, he sighed and nuzzled my neck with his nose, exhaling. "We've only been together for two weeks," He paused as I puzzled over this, realizing that it was true. "And," He continued lowly, dropping his face close to mine. "Although you've distracted me wonderfully from my depressing mood, I don't think that was your intention." He raised an eyebrow, and my body cooled, my brain beginning to work again. I looked into his eyes.

"You're right, I'm sorry," I murmured ashamedly, dropping my gaze as he looked down at me sadly.

"I really fancy you, Kira. I mean I _really _do, more than any other bird I've met, and I don't want to ruin what we have by moving too fast." He leaned down and pressed his lips softly against mine. "So, for the sake of my sanity, and before I change my mind, let's put a shirt back on you," His eyes licked over my chest, the swells of the soft flesh of my breasts. I nodded, feeling disappointed but oddly touched.

"Okay," I breathed, pushing myself up to kiss him softly. What was I thinking? I clearly wasn't. I sat up and groped around in the dark for my shirt, finding it and slipping it over my head. I turned to find Sirius buttoning up his own white shirt, and he glanced up through his hair to find me watching him and flashed a wicked grin.

I rolled my eyes and smiled as I crawled underneath the thick blankets again, now feeling thoroughly warm. Sirius clambered next to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling my body close. I felt safe pressed alongside his strong body, my head resting against the hollow of his chest. I sighed and closed my eyes, finding sleep waiting in the back of my mind.

"G'night Sirius," I murmured tiredly, several quiet minutes later.

"Goodnight, Kira," He whispered into my hair, and with his voice echoing softly through my head I found pleasant dreams.


	18. A Notebook of Memories

Sirius Black awoke to the sound of unfamiliar voices trying vainly to be quiet. In his mind, still drunk with sleep, he floundered around the idea of consciousness before slipping into a half-slumber—on the fringe of sleep, but still partly lucid. A very small part.

"We should wake her," Someone said, her voice approaching where Sirius lay, although he was still unsure of where that was. Right then, he was focusing mainly on the fact that he would rather be asleep at the moment, and this obnoxious person kept jarring him from his slumber with unimportant sentences.

"Why? She'll wake up eventually, besides, don't you think that will be a little awkward? We hardly know her." Another spoke, and Sirius felt irritation rise within him as he pushed his face closer into the pillow.

"She already missed breakfast, and classes start in twenty minutes. Don't you think we should at least warn her? I mean it seems kind of mean to leave her here," The first person argued, and Sirius sighed quietly. Obviously he wasn't going to be able to sleep anymore. But why were these people in his room?

"Okay, fine," The other girl snapped, "Let's do it quickly, then." Together, two girls, who happened to be Kira's temporary roommates, pulled back the curtains surrounding the bed, expecting a sleeping girl, expecting her to possibly be angry, and expecting this girl to get up after they woke her…they _didn't, _however, expect a _bo_y to be in the bed.

The first girl shrieked with surprise as they laid eyes Sirius, sleeping soundly with Kira curled against his side, his arm holding her tight against him.

"Ohmigod!" The other breathed, and Sirius vaguely registered that the two intruders had opened the curtains as the weak sunlight shone through.

"Do you think they…you know…last night?" The first voice asked, and now Sirius was awake enough to puzzle over this

"I don't think so," replied the second. "They're both dressed. Look—he's still in his school clothes." Then everything dawned on Sirius, as he registered the warm body next to him and the unfamiliar voices. The night before came flooding back to him, and he realized he had spent the night in Kira's room.

He bolted up right, the covers sliding off of him as he stared into the startled faces of two teenage girls. He blinked at them and then turned back to Kira, suddenly realizing that he might have hurt her, getting up so fast like that, but she remained asleep, her sharp features softened with the edge of unconsciousness

He sighed with relief and softly stroked her cheek, running his thumb down the contours of her slender neck and jaw. Sirius then remembered that they had company, feeling irrationally angry that they were ruining his morning, but masked it well as he turned back towards them.

The two girls were rather speechless as they faced the aristocratically handsome Sirius Black, his shirt slightly askew and his dark hair ruffled from sleep. "Uhh…" they mumbled brilliantly, floundering to find their thoughts. Sirius didn't help them; because just then he flashed a brilliant smile their way, causing the mental turmoil within their heads to begin again. He faked a concerned and even sincere expression, furrowing his eyebrows together for effect.

"Sorry," He started. "I didn't mean to scare you," He paused and looked back at Kira, finding her still asleep, and consequently unable to help him explain this situation to her dorm mates.

"How…" One girl started, but her sentence trailed off. Sirius scratched his head awkwardly, and glanced at them.

"Listen, do you think you could keep this quiet? I don't want Kira to get in trouble. I just…" He thought about it for a moment, " I just needed to talk to her last night, and fell asleep." It was partly true, he reckoned.

"Sure," the second girl cleared her throat. "we, uh, just wanted to wake her up. Its nearly time for classes." She stated timidly, watching Sirius quietly.

"Oh," Sirius shifted, and looked behind him. " Okay, I'll wake her up. Thanks."

Sirius turned around, facing Kira who now had one eye opened, watching him sleepily. For a moment he was nervous, nervous about everything, wondering if she was still angry with him, wondering if he had hurt her feelings last night when he pushed her away, but in the split second it took to test her mood he was reassured. She was calm, curious maybe, as to what was going on, but her thoughts were focused on nothing unusual. Sirius was thankful, in that moment, that she was not one of those girls who were emotionally petty and ridiculous about everything, that she was relatively reasonable with her feelings, and even realized when she was being irrational.

"What's going on?" She asked, rubbing her dark blue eyes with the back of her small hand while sitting up grudgingly. Sirius couldn't help the small smile that graced his face as he watched her struggle to sit up, her hair hanging in it's natural loose ringlets.

Sirius motioned to the girls behind him, suddenly aware he had never asked their names. "Uh, these fine young ladies were just about to wake you up for classes. They start in a couple minutes." Kira's roommates looked positively mortified as Kira turned her dark eyes upon them, but then she smiled, and the girls visibly relaxed.

"Thanks," She told them, tossing her legs over the side of her round mattress to search her trunk for clothes. "I probably would have slept through the entire day." Kira looked up at them, as she hauled her uniform out and slid back onto the bed. She turned to Sirius then, who was lounging upon her mattress waiting for her to get ready.

"Okay. It's been lovely Sirius, but you should go get ready for class." Kira suggested, placing her pile of clothes to the side of her as she looked at him. Sirius smiled, realizing that she wanted him out. He plucked at his shirt, motioning to his already school clad body.

"Im already dressed darling. I don't need to get ready." He grinned at her as she raised an eyebrow, and his smile fell as he grudgingly got up. "Ill be outside." He grumbled and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, and slid to the ground against the wall. It was only several minutes later that Kira appeared, looking fresh and dressed.

Sirius grinned at her as she extended her arm to help him up from the red carpeted floor, finding it comical how much smaller her hand was compared to his.

"To bad we missed breakfast." She said, starting to walk down the corridor, Sirius followed, easily keeping pace with her.

_Yeah, _Sirius agreed silently. _And too bad I don't know where the kitchens are. _ Kira smiled and rolled her eyes at that.

"No Marauder's map here, is there?" She asked innocently, letting her hair shield her face from his surprised expression.

"How did you know about that?" Sirius asked, leaning forward to look at her face. Her face was neutral, like always, but inside he could feel the unrest of her amusement.

_Oh, please. _She supplied inwardly, speaking to him within her thoughts since he was already invading her head. _You don't think Lily doesn't know? Of course she told me. _

Sirius frowned for a moment then, as they entered the school communal common room, shrugged and stuffed his hands within his pockets.

"I've no idea where Divination is, so lead the way."

----

Sirius sat slumped in his seat, nearing a coma state with the depth of his boredom. This teacher was worse than Binns. He stifled a groan as he glanced at the hovering gold clock above the door, made entirely of spoons. Was it possible only thrity seconds had gone by since he last looked?

It was the last class before lunch, he could hardly even remember the subject. He knew he should be taking some fantastic notes right now, because McGonagall checked that her students were being respectful by checking the depth of their notes. Sirius looked down at his blank paper, and quill lying on the table like a dead bird and wondered if there was anyway he could copy the notes from Kira later. He looked up and around the room for her.

She was sitting at the front, her back to him, her long hair hanging over the side of the chair as she leaned against the back of the stool. He watched her for a moment, disappointed to find that she too wasn't paying any attention, nor taking notes. Sirius frowned and looked down at his paper again, now considering James as an option for cheating.

The girl next to him nudged him, and he looked up at her pale face and pale hair. The opposite of Kira. Sirius had been forced to sit next to this girl because when Kira and him had walked in late, only two seats had been left. He raised his eyebrows at his partner.

"Check this out." She nodded in the direction ahead of them and Sirius lazily followed her eyes, scanning the room for any reason to be impressed. "No, look," This time she physically lifted her arm to point, and as Sirius dutifully traced the direction of her hand he spotted the object of her rapt attention. While Kira was lounging in her chair, counting the specs on the ceiling, her quill was devotedly scribbling down the words the teacher spoke. So she _was_ taking notes.

Sirius grinned widely. He'd never known anyone could charm their quill into doing that. The QuickQuill Company who manufactured quills that took notes on their own, had specifically banned any other quills from being able to do that with a spell.

"You know her right?" The girl to his right asked. "She's your girlfriend?" Sirius nodded, keeping his eyes trained on Kira. Kira shifted in her seat, feeling his thoughts on her. "Do you know the spell to do that?" The girl asked, and Sirius grinned even wider.

"No," He responded, and the girl next to him muttered humbled curse. "But I could ask her." He continued, and his partner now looked interested yet doubtful. The pale girl looked at the space between Sirius and his dark haired girlfriend uncertainly.

_Hey Kira? _He asked, grasping her full attention. He felt her thoughts shift towards him, open, waiting. _Me and…er, this girl here are wondering if we could get in on this spell you've got going there. With the quill. _He smiled at the back of her as she turned around and raised her eyebrows, obviously amused. Sirius flashed her a charming grin, and she turned her back on him again, digging through her book bag.

Kira pulled out her wand stealthily, and then twisted her arm behind her, expertly casting the spell first at Sirius' quill, then the girl's next to him, without looking. When she finished, Kira smoothly retracted her wand, and resumed counting blemishes on the ceiling. He smiled faintly at her, sending her his gratitude.

Sirius grinned down at his quill, now copying notes as the teacher spoke.

---

Quidditch practice was cold, no, it was freezing. The Hogwarts team had to wear scarves over their faces to keep their lungs from inhaling such cold air. Still…it was nice to fly with Kira again, even if she was grumpy and shivering. For the first time in weeks she allowed their bond to fill every crevice of their minds, until Sirius and Kira could hardly tell the difference between their own thoughts and the other. Kira was reluctant, unnerved by having everything shared. Sirius was thrilled, but he could tell she was focusing alarmingly hard on the Quidditch practice, which meant she was hiding something from him.

She'd been almost distant for the last couple hours, ever since lunch, when he had mentioned Kira's sudden change of heart right after Christmas. It had been a mistake asking her what had changed her mind, what had made Kira give Sirius a chance, and now he regretted it, but couldn't deny the curiosity.

Kira and Sirius were now walking back from practice, the night cold and dark around them, and he felt her thin body stiffen as she registered his thoughts. Sirius could feel her own emotions rioting in the pit of his stomach.

He looked down on her, concerned, but knowing better than to ask. Her long lashes cast shadows across her cheeks, and her glossy dark hair caught the light from the moon and reflection from the snow. While he watched her, Kira looked up at him fleetingly from beneath her feathered eyelashes, her expression anxious. Her breath ghosted from her lips in wisps of steam, and she sighed deeply before leaning against Sirius' side heavily. He wrapped his arm around her small shoulders, hugging her body to his as they approached the castle.

Inside it was warmer, and the halls were lit merrily with flickering torches. Sirius tried to keep his thoughts pure with Kira's soft body pressed against his, but it was proving difficult.

Sirius directed them towards the castle common room, and decided quickly he wasn't ready for Kira to disappear into her room. He held her hand tight as he dragged her to one of the many grand couches spread around the room, settling her next him.

Kira merely raised her eyebrows, but didn't protest. James wandered over only seconds later, blabbering excitedly about Quidditch. Sirius was sick of Quidditch, and didn't feel up to talking about it, but he felt he owed James the attention. He was acutely aware that Kira was off in her own world, lost in her tornado of thoughts, yet still able to keep a lively discussion with James. A grand multitasker.

Sirius' attention snapped back to Kira when he felt her sit up straighter next to him, and he looked down at her questioningly. She looked up through her depthless blue eyes, glossy and clear as she gazed back at him. She stood, and Sirius clamped his hand around hers, his fingers were cracked and dry, but hers felt smooth and flawless against his skin.

"I just left my mittens by the Quidditch pitch." Kira tore her hand from Sirius' as gently as she could and turned. "Ill be back." Sirius wondered if she really thought he would let her wander around in the dark by herself, and jumped up also.

"Ill only be a minute. Sit down." Her voice was forceful, and Sirius heard that she despised the way he babied her, thinking her incapable of defending herself. He began to protest, but her glare turned his words to nothing.

_James needs you. _She snapped at him, and Sirius looked down at his best friend, his brother, and saw that James seemed resigned to spend another evening alone. Sirius nodded, and sat back down as Kira swept out of the room. As Sirius caught a last glimpse of her before she disappeared, he saw her reach into her pocket, pause to pull out a pair of red mittens, then place them carefully back in her coat and walk through the thresh hold of the door into the darkness of the unfamiliar halls.

Two shadowed figures followed Kira immediately out the door, disappearing with her, leaving Sirius feeling hollow and empty. With one final blow, Kira disconnected her emotions from Sirius, completely cutting him off as if she had just flipped the light switch in his head to complete darkness.

--

Kira heard them behind her, heard their following footsteps and slowed. She listened, hearing three now. Three different people. After a moments thought she turned the next corner and pressed her back against the wall, waiting. Only one had been following Sirius and her from the pitch, she had only felt one person trailing them then, and now there was three, and they obviously wanted her. There was no way she would let Sirius be with her when these strangers caught up with her.

Kira squeezed her eyes shut, listening to their noises as they became closer, and trying to calm her heart. She didn't have a wand, she would have to do without. As they rounded the corner, and with one last rapid beat of her harassed heart, she sprang out at them. With a reflex flick of her hand two wands slipped from their fingers and shot to hers. She caught them, but the third figure was holding his too tight, and in one swift movement his free hand had her wrists and his other held the tip of his wand to her throat. She froze, but knew she could beat him, even with her hands tied and wandless, because as she calmed down, Kira realized that this person was a student, and he wasn't a stranger.

"We just want to talk," He said hoarsely, and his voice echoed through the halls like a broken plea. Fight, or flight?

She froze.

----

It was dark on 12 Daisy Lane one humid summer night, and the three children of Anton Bogdan lazed at the mahogany kitchen table of their riverside mansion, enjoying the breeze of the open window above the sink. Their father, the Romanian Minister of Magic, had just sailed off to an emergency meeting somewhere in Serbia, and they were all discussing what possible disaster could bring Anton to rush off in the dead of night. His children were worried of course, but not as much as Whitney Bogdan, who was upstairs starring blankly at the wall of her master bedroom, wondering where at that moment her husband was. She hated when he left, hated it as much as the thought of her children growing up, but as most mothers and wives must do, she let it go, however reluctantly.

With a collective breath, Whitney trailed down the elegant stairs of her beautiful home, and into the kitchen where Adrian, Ebony and Ivory sat idly drinking iced tea. They were all relatively quiet, sitting stoically with vacant expressions. They looked up when their mother entered, her dark hair and brown eyes distant, and she sat down with only the sound of the chair scratching backwards.

"I think Im going to floo Aunt Cherie tomorrow, and see how little Lyn is doing since her cold." Whitney Bagdan said delicately, placing her petite hands over one another, and looking vaguely at her perfect fingernails. "Would any of you children like to accompany me?" She asked sweetly, lifting her dainty chin to look into the eyes of her growing family. Each one of the Bogdan children knew that their mother did not in fact want them to accompany her, so they politely shook their heads, and looked down at their hands.

It was silent for a moment in the Bogdan Mansion, until the quiet was ripped apart by an ear shattering crash. The family jumped, and looked towards the source of the noise in panic, where shouting now ensued. Heart racing, Mrs. Bogdan knew almost with as much certainty as her own birthday what this was. She suddenly felt dizzy with fear that choked her senses as she stood and ran to cast a protection spell over the front door. Whitney then screamed at her children, standing frozen with wide-eyed fear as they'd never felt before to run upstairs.

Mrs. And Mr. Bogdan had discussed the possible occurrence of an attack, but never before had Whitney expected it. Now as adrenaline coursed her blood, her children running upstairs, the front of the house exploded inwards in a horrific boom. Pictures of their family smiling serenely at the camera shattered as the wall crumbled and the foyer melted into a heap of rubbage. Whitney held her wand steady, her eyes determined, as Death Eaters materialized in black smoke and spilled into the remains of her broken home.

They heard their mother's last scream from downstairs, heard the rush of breath as she collapsed. Tears blurred their eyes as they scrambled desperately upwards, the carpeted stairs winding still towards the third floor. Adrian could hear the shouts, the people, the death eaters coursing through their house like cancer cells. He dragged Ivory up where she had fallen, and Ebony let out a broken sob as she pushed up from the floor to her feet, running, running, fleeing as they had never done before. A low hum entered Adrian's head, a painful cry that melted away his thoughts. Only instinct remained, and he knew they would not be safe where ever they hid in this house.

The three children of Whitney Bogdan clambered to the last stair, running and tripping blindly in panic to their mother's room. Adrian slapped the door closed as he ran through, but the door hit the wall and bounced open again. Panic, pure and intoxicating raced through his ears, so much fear crippled his heart that he felt dizzy with the suddenness of this dread.

He followed Ivory's bolt of silken blonde hair into the closet of his mother, her clothes hanging limp from their hangers, waiting to be worn. He tried not think of her, downstairs with all those horrible evil people. She was dead, dead. He felt the weight of it, and knew with a certainty he never could have imagined. The absence already burned like boiling water.

He huddled his sister's together, none of them daring to breathe as they heard the clunk of someone coming up the stairs, walking across the floor of their home.

"How much respect you've lost, Dearest Doll." The mocking voice floated to Adrian's ears, and his sisters whimpered beneath him. He clutched them closer to his heart, taking in their smell, and memorizing the color of their mossy eyes. How much he loved them.

"Now the Dark Lord sends an escort with you, to supervise any task you must complete." Adrian's eyes snapped open, he wouldn't lose his sisters. They couldn't die. They wouldn't. He wouldn't allow it.

As his sisters whimpered and cried out quietly with terrified protest, he crawled cautiously to the doorframe of the walk in closet, peeking out. His pulse thudded through his neck, and he felt feint with the rapid movement of his blood.

A man, wearing a bone white mask as terrifying as death itself stood just outside in the hallway. Adrian's heart went to his throat.

"It's 'cause Ive gone soft, is it not?" Another voice answered. And he saw her too now, as she stepped of the last step of stairs and onto the third floor of thier mansion. She was wildly beautiful, now that he could see her face, her hair a mass of shiny curls, her eyes dark and dangerous. She seemed cruel though, and he couldn't stop the drop of fear that slid down his throat and settled into his stomach like an ice cube at the sight of her.

The man stepped towards her, removing his mask as he did so.

"Oh, it is. Trying to save victims will lower your status, my dear." His eyes flicker coldly across her face, and he trailed a long finger-nailed thumb down her jaw. She seemed indifferent to the touch—she didn't even wince as he pressed against the black and blue splotches on her cheeks and split lip. "The Dark Lord's Doll has gone soft. Such a pity. So much potential you had. A little demon weapon, dangerous as a hungry lion, but no one would expect it from someone as little as you," He grinned a slimy smile that twisted across his ugly face like barbed wire. He leaned close to whisper in her ear.

Her eyes flashed, awakening from the cold dead glare they had settled so easily into. In a darting movement, her arms flashed up, and in one solid motion grasped his head and twisted it until a sick snap emitted from his body and the man slumped to the ground. Her eyes looked dully down on the dead man, within seconds she had snapped his neck like a toothpick. "Yes," She said down to him. "That is too bad," in response to the death eater's whispered words Adrian hadn't heard. He resisted a cry.

Her head snapped up anyways, as if she had heard his mental retaliation, and her dark eyes met his, and in that moment her demeanor changed immediately.

In a flash of movement she was beside him, shoving him back into the depths of his mother's closet, and he tumbled back into his sisters. The dark haired girl closed the door, and his sister shrieked with fear, and Adrian's heart squeezed painfully.

"Listen to me," The girl said, kneeling down next him, she looked into his eyes and he realized now that she seemed desperate and frightened too. "You're father isn't home?" She asked, and something inside of him told himself to trust her. Adrian nodded.

"Good," She said, standing out of relief. She looked down on them and hurriedly ripped a little bound book from the depths of her black robes. She shoved it into his hands, with a painful expression settled across her sharp features, like she was handing him her child. "It's a portkey, it leaves in five minutes and will take you to Serbia where your father is." She said quickly, glancing behind her at the sound of more people. She waved her hand at the door with a quick flip and a shimmering film suddenly surrounded the frame.

"How did you know he was in Serbia?" Adrian demanded suddenly, shoving his sisters back as he stood shakily to his rubbery feet. His heart thumped into his throat, trying to escape while it had a chance, and Adrian swallowed it back down.

The girl regarded him closely for a moment, her body as still as a statue, and he was struck suddenly by how young she was. Maybe fourteen.

"I sent him there." She said finally, and her eyes flickered to the little bound book clasped in Adrian's hand. He was suddenly intensely dizzy, like someone had knocked him over the head with a shovel.

"_You_ did?" He asked, his breath coming out short. This girl had known this would happen? She sent their father away when they most needed him. He stared at her, her large dark eyes calculating his expression stonily.

"Your father is more important than you realize. His safety was necessary. It's selfish of you to want him here." Her sentence struck him in the gut like a brick, Adrian felt as if he had just swallowed a rock, but she gave him no time to recover.

Another explosion sounded outside, followed by shouts and screams. The urgency of the situation seemed to re-dawn on her, and she moved fast as she struck Adrian down from his feet.

"Listen to me," She said, and her eyes showed a fear almost as intense as his own. She moved in front of him, forcing his eyes on her. "This port key will leave any minute and take you to your father. You all have to hold on," She glanced sparingly at Ebony and Ivory huddled behind him. "He wont know what's going on, so tell him as much as you can." She paused, her dark hair tangled and the tips slightly damp, her eyes wild and frightened yet still brave, she seemed so sure. She leaned over to the floor and scribbled a date on a tiny scrap of paper and thrust it into Ebony's hands, saying as she stabbed the letters "This is important. Something bad is going to happen here," She pointed to the date again and looked up into the eyes of the three siblings, looking for an understanding. "Tell me this if you ever see me again. Give this to me if you ever see me again. Before February, I don't know the exact date."

Ebony closed her hand around the paper, her tears still falling relentlessly down her soft cheeks. The girls nodded, Adrian nodded, and suddenly the world was falling away. The scene around him started to spin, the closet surrounding them fragmenting into a thousand shards. The port key was leaving, and as he caught a last glimpse of his home, he saw the girl spin around, her hair swishing in a flash as the closet exploded in and she disappeared into the rubble of death eaters spilling in.

---

My head hurt. I tried to close my eyes and block it all out, all of those… lies. But as I swallowed I knew that this was no lie, no dream or untruth.

I looked into the worried faces of the siblings. The Siblings, those haunting children with one horrid artifact, an artifact of mine, from times I don't remember. Ebony with her long dark hair and mossy green eyes, and Ivory with her pale hair as white as snow, both so contrasting, but obviously sisters. They leaned on each other now, lazily almost, in a way that made them seem intoxicated if their overcast faces were not so intense and alert. The older boy, their brother Adrian, was taller and standing behind them. He was nervous looking, with the same dark hair as one of the girls, with the same green eyes and the same subtitle nose and jaw. All of their eyes were searching, searching for something, and the more I watched them the more my head hurt, as if some deep distant thing was trying to resurface from the depths of the locked doors within my head. It kept banging against my skull, trying to make it out. I looked away, a sudden new spike of panic rising in my throat. I felt on edge, nervous, anxious. I felt as if they were waiting. For what? What did they want me to do?

How was I supposed to respond to a sentence so heinous? And there it was, in Ebony's hand, a little brown book, old and worn, innocent to the untrained eye. A shot of pain laced through my mind, intertwining down my spine until all my muscles were poisoned. I shook my head violently, and took a step back, a cowards step, the start to an escape.

"I don't want it," I said hoarsely, my thoughts clashed with the horrors that lay inside that tiny notebook, horrors that were best left unknown. Even the mere thought of it seemed to swoop into my mind in the way a flock of black crows takes over a landscape, sitting thick in the trees and on the fence rails and lawns, staring in ominous silence.

The siblings didn't blink, didn't move. They looked unnatural there, like statues of once humans turned to stone by Medusa herself. I felt like slashing their hard faces, shoving them against the wall and splintering their lips so they could no longer haunt me with their terrifying words.

"Listen, please." The boy begged, and my head snapped to him, and my eyes narrowed. Listening was exactly the opposite of what I wanted to do. I wanted to run, to fight someone, destroy something.

"We just want to talk," The girls added, and I felt as I were in some weird paranormal world, like the horror movies I watched with Lily over vacation, where these children in front of me would twist their heads to the side eerily and grin a menacing grin before charging at my throat with a dagger.

They had led me this far, and I had followed obligingly. I was curious. _Curious. _Now I truly knew the meaning of curiosity killed the cat. But I didn't have nine lives, in fact I barely had one, and this _talk_ was draining the life out of me.

To the right there was a door, a door they all assured me was safe for what they were about to tell me. Did I dare enter that door? Did I dare take a step backwards and enter the past I so desperately avoided knowledge of? I swallowed hard, trying vainly to swallow the rock in my throat. I felt as if my esophagus was hardening to stone.

"You don't have to take the book back. We were unsure if you wanted it or not. We can burn it, if you'd like." Ebony said, and suddenly I was struck with a horrible thought.

"You haven't read any of it, have you?" I asked quickly, feeling weak. Did these people know more secrets than they let on? Surely they did not read the private words of the person who saved them? Supposedly. Their edited and summarized tale was the only fact I had knowledge of.

"No, we haven't. It wont open, if that makes you feel better," Ivory stated kindly, and I shut my eyes for a moment. I felt my body sway, like a tree caught in the wind with weak roots, and my head thudded again painfully. Just when I thought nothing could get any worse, the footsteps of another sounded in the quiet corridor. My eyes snapped open only to see Sirius fly into the area with his wand out and ready.

He was at my side in an instant, pointing his weapon steadily at the three siblings, who all stood still like statues. "What's going on here?" Sirius demanded, under the impression I was somehow in danger. And maybe I was, but only to myself. Sirius was here, standing next to me, making things even more complex. I didn't want him here, I didn't want him to even get a glimpse of the horrors that book held. My throat closed.

"Go away, Sirius." I said weakly, unable to raise my voice any higher. Exhausted leaked through my body like the plague, leaving me feeling empty and hollow. He turned to me halfway, keeping his eyes on the three across the way, and he seemed stung for a moment.

"No," he said forcefully.

"This doesn't involve you," _I don't want you to see this, to witness this. _

"Everything that involves you, involves me," He ground out between his teeth, clenching his wand tighter. Anger pulsed through me, and I let the connection between us reattach so he could feel my irritation. I could handle myself, I was my own person, I owned my own life. I didn't like the insinuation that Sirius thought otherwise.

But before any comment could have left my lips, another reply sounded from across the hallway. "Just leave, mate. You're just making things worse." Adrian. He stepped forward, and glanced at me as he did so, as if he was a mighty warrior helping the weak. Another surge of irritation welled up within me, it felt like a waterfall with all my unstable emotions.

And then Sirius and Adrian were standing in front of each other, growling and yelling like rabid wolves. Ebony and Ivory stared at their brother, and I stared at Sirius. A sort of dead roar entered my body, like they were draining me of any remaining energy I had. I stared at them, Sirius, wearing a black shirt and muggle jeans, his wand held tight, his knuckles white from the strain. And Adrian, wearing his navy robes, his chocolate hair swept aside and his green eyes glinting maliciously.

I had had enough. When I had them both against the wall, stunned by the sudden of the spell, I stepped in front of them, scathing Sirius with my anger. I made eye contact with Adrian, a fool to think I was impressed with his fight with Sirius. Both of them made me so angry I felt I could physically hurt both of them without feeling guilt. With one last cutting glare, I turned away.

"Both of you can wait out here," I muttered, slinking past Ebony, clasping the tiny journal in her hand, and Ivory, silently making eye contact to show them to follow. They obliged quietly, like cattle they followed me into the room and we shut the door on the two hormonal teenagers behind us.

Ebony and Ivory simply handed me a note, something I had supposedly given them in the chaos of our last meeting. They set the tiny bound notebook on the coffee table in the center of the four plush couches of the conference room. Behind me a fire crackled happily but the atmosphere was anything but pleasant. Ebony seemed terrified of me, Ivory was curious, either way I felt like a rabid zoo animal under their twin gazes.

They gave me the memory, a tiny silver strand that floated indifferently, and I watched it in a pensive, seeing the event through Adrian's eyes, watching myself kill another person while saving three others.

I felt Sirius, leaning against the door, feeling sorry for himself. I imagined him, his back pressed against the wood of the tall doorway, his arms resting on his bent knees, his head bowed and his lovely dark hair hanging in his stormy grey eyes. I realized too late that I did want him here, even if he was being an insufferable prat.

I stood suddenly, trying to fight through this numbness, this dead feeling that consumed me. The two sisters looked up questioningly as I thanked them half heartedly for such an awful experience. I balled up the little scrap of paper they had given me without looking at it, and after a moments hesitance, took the little bound book on the table before leaving without another word.

Sirius was waiting outside, just how I imagined, and he looked up as I exited. He started to speak, parting his lips, before he stopped himself and sighed. Sirisu ran a hand through his hair and said quietly, "Sorry," quite simply, and that was all I needed. I just nodded, and helped him up.

We walked down the hallway in silence, no need to speak. But I did need to speak, to tell him something he deserved to know, something I didn't realized with holding from him would be selfish.

"Sirius," I paused, stopping in the cold corridors, darkness descended, but Sirius was there, my comfort in the night. He looked at me, his eyes silver and questioning, excepting. "Remember today, when you asked what made me change my mind?" I asked him, my eyes searching his. He nodded cautiously, I could feel his curiosity, his nervousness in the pit of my stomach, and I looked down, unable to face him. "Over Christmas break, I had a vision of you," I said slowly, and paused, reliving the exhilarating yet sad experience of Sirius' aging. "I…" I looked up at him, then, unable to not see him, I wanted to see his eyes, the way his mouth was pressed into a thin , contemplative line. "Sirius, I want you to know that I changed my mind because I knew you would survive past my death, no matter how strong our bond was. I only changed my mind because I knew you would be safe, and Im sorry for not telling you sooner, for not telling you that you live. It was selfish of me to withhold that." I looked down then, winding my fingers through his, pressing our forearms, our ink bonds together, and relishing in the simple tingles that ran up my body from the contact. Sirius was thinking, and I let him, closing my eyes and leaning my head against his chest. His sweater was warm against my skin, and his arm wrapped carefully around my thin shoulders. I tried to give him his private thoughts, but still, I knew. He felt no joy over the realization that he wouldn't die in two months, instead there was just a hollow ache of the pain that he would soon have to endure. For once, I was glad that I was the one leaving, and not the other way around, because the pain of losing Sirius would consume my wholly until I was empty.

Sirius wrapped his other arm around me, his face lowed to my hair. We embraced in the cold unfamiliar halls of the foreign school, and my left hand felt weighed down by the weight of that little brown book. But for now, I ignored my past. For now.


	19. Hot Springs

**AN: So. Ive decided to stop this story. Im sorry, I really am. In the future, I might come back to it, but for now I'm over it and fanfiction, moving onto original stuff. But, I was going through all my old files and I found this part, the first part of the next chapter I had already started before I decided to stop. SO, here it is, the final installment. It's not the end, just the next part, and its short too. Beware, it leaves you hanging. **

**Also, a side note, if you want to read any of my other stuff, tell me and Ill give you a link. Thanks! And Im really sorry for being a quitter. **

"Kira…" the whisper invaded my brain, it pushed itself through the fog of sleep. I resisted the awaking senses within my body though, and rolled onto my side, sighing in half lucid frustration. There was a quiet laugh, a warm and amused laugh I knew only too well. My mind floundered around the sound, trying to make sense of the familiarity, but failing as the quiet once again lured me to sleep.

"Kira…" The voice again penetrated my blurry thoughts, it was still amused, practically chuckling at something unknown. I groaned groggily and responded out of habit with the word 'what?' although I had somehow misplaced the meaning at the moment. Another annoyingly recognizable laugh. The mattress sank slightly where new weight was applied, and slowly I became aware that I was sleeping, on a bed, with someone awakening me.

For a moment panic laced through my system, panic at this intruder invading my vulnerable sleeping hours, but as soon as the anxiety struck, the familiar presence of Sirius drifted into my consciousness, like the pleasantly warm smell of baking pie wafting from a brightly lit room.

I relaxed immediately, melting back into the soft expanses of this horrendously round mattress before becoming half-heartedly irritated. "What do you want?" I muttered into my pillow, which smelled like the lavender soap I had borrowed the previous afternoon from Margret, one of my two dorm mates. I felt him saddle up closer, his own fragrance gracing my senses. Salt, leather, skin, and saw dust. It smelled ridiculously alluring, and I crushed the feeling quickly before Sirius could detect the trail of my thoughts.

He pressed his warm lips to my exposed temple in the darkness, chuckling quietly in my ear and he gently tugged my chin out from the depths of my crumpled pillow. I could see the shadowed planes of his handsome face in the little light that had managed to weasel its way into the recesses of my current dorm room, and I sighed as I shifted towards him.

I tested his mood, finding his thoughts as easily as my own. He was thinking about how I must be cold with such little blankets in this cold Romanian weather, about how he was going to convince me to go to the hotspings with him, and about how cute I looked while sleeping…

I retracted from his thoughts at the last one, and pulled a face at him. Sirius merely grinned and rolled his eyes. _You wanted to know…_he pointed out, and I scowled at him before sitting up completely, trying vainly to pat down my crumpled hair. He lounged on my bed beneath me, watching contentedly, biding his time until he knew I was impatient.

"You don't really have a choice," He informed me matter of factly, rolling his eyes towards the darkened ceiling and back a me. I frowned and pulled the blankets off of me, shivering in the cold.

"Oh, really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, as I slipped of the bed to pull on a sweater from my truck. The little brown notebook lay eerily still upon the smooth surface of my luggage, and I shivered, this time not from the cold, but ignored its presence for now. I would have to face that eventually, the thought still me for a moment, only long enough for me to push the task to the back of my mind though, and I walked back to the bed.

"You ready?" He asked, and sat up eagerly. I looked at his face, seeing his genuine, child-like excitement and reminded myself that I was doing this for Sirius. It wasn't like we were going to go cliff diving into icy water, or walking into the depths of caves which housed man-eating monsters, but still, I was reluctant and petulant none the less. I tried one last time and he grabbed my hand and hauled me up from my warm, inviting mattress.

"I don't have a swim suit," I told him, and he only snorted, his hand warm and large in mine. His skin felt like melting honey against the chill of my own flesh.

"As if that's a bad thing. You make it seem like I don't _want _to see you in your knickers, love." And with that he flashed me a boyish grin as we exited the dorm.

Outside it was beyond freezing, but Sirius had conjured up a warming spell, and the charm surrounded us now like warm pocket of air. I sincerely regretted not bringing any other clothing, because I felt rather foolish and vulnerable in nothing but pajamas. Pajamas that were Sirius' no less, and pooled around my ankles requiring me to hike them up every few steps. Sirius found this act unsurprisingly, very funny, and I tried not to bring my wand into it, even if he was highly irritating.

Walking the half mile to the so-called hot springs up a spiky, cold, mountain crag in the dead of night was not high on my list of things to do. But I felt I owed Sirius, not because I hadn't told he wasn't really going to die in a few months, no, more because I _was_. His thoughts over the whole fiasco were nearly as dark as the night sky, and his silent brooding mood made my own depressing outlook all the more dim.

Needless to say, we weren't the happiest people to be around. Even James, through his boyish ridiculous mopping over his red-headed infatuation had noticed.

That makes three then. James, with his hopeless love for an undeceiving girl, Sirius with the death of his girlfriend floating over the horizon, and then me. What was I unhappy about? The question was almost laughable.

I had tried to make a list, a list that seemed to be impossibly growing. One of the bigger problems, that seemed to be hanging over my head was the whole dying event. It really was getting old. I decided to not think of it, not at least, until the actual affair was close enough to taste. Sirius would survive, there was nothing else I could do, and nothing more to worry about. Later, I told myself. Later I would deal with that.

But right now? Right now, I had another problem. That little, insufferable, brown book, laying solemnly upon my trunk. I was undecided, as of yet, about whether I should open it. Was the information really necessary? Would it cause more turmoil than it would peace within my mind? I had always wanted to know my past, know what portion of my life had gone missing. But now that I faced the option, my gut told me no. Sirius knew, of course. He knew everything about me, no more secrets. The only information I bothered to withhold from him now was perhaps what I thought about him as he left the room, or how infuriatingly attractive he looked when he flashed one of his sideway smirks or took off his shirt as he got ready for bed. Sirius knew, and he was letting me brood silently over the topic of my unforgivable past, withholding his own opinion until I had either burned the book or opened it.

"Kira?" Sirius had been leading me by the hand over the rocky passages, letting me think and warning me silently only when there was an obstruction in my path. I looked up at him, his face was unreadable in the blackness of the night.

"Yeah?" I snapped out of my thoughts, feeling his fingers contract lightly around mine before relaxing. We had stopped, and only now did I realize this. He used his free hand to point in front of us, towards a large flat rock that seemed to be suspiciously floating.

"I think this will take us to the top." He smiled at me, and I frowned, confused. "Just thought I'd warn you before we hop aboard and it starts moving." He grinned again at my foolish expression. All thoughts of dying, of horrible pasts and attractive images of Sirius shirtless out the window—the rock would be _moving_?

"Wait!" I gasped as he started tugging us towards the boulder, looming just beyond what I realized was a rather sharp drop into nothingness. I grabbed hold of him and seized him back towards me.

He laughed loudly, grasping my shoulders and pulling me into his chest, restraining any movement I had been considering. "Shhh. Its all right." He laughed again, grinning wickedly at my surprising fear. "This is how we get to the top." He pointed into the blackness, but I saw nothing. "I talked to a girl in charms." He explained, and I relaxed a little. So this was the actual way of getting up, not some untested short-cut that had a dangerously high death toll. I sighed and glared at him.

"You could have warned me," I grumbled and pulled away from him, peering at the rock uncertainly. He threw up his hands and rolled his eyes.

"I did!" He cried indignantly and followed closely behind me, placing his warm hands on my hips from behind as I looked into the dark abyss. I turned towards him, searching his eyes.

"Are you sure it will work? It looks like an awfully long fall…" I turned back towards the cliff edge. Sirius pressed himself against me from behind, the warmth of his body radiating through my thin layers almost immediately, and resisted a shiver as he pressed his lips to throat, whispering quietly. "Trust me."

The rock was sturdier than I expected, and although I went no where near the edge, the slow monotonous ride lasted only several minutes. It was strangely vulnerable to be exposed like that, trapped on a rock in the middle of a canyon, floating languidly along.

What if the rock suddenly dropped? But nothing disastrous happened, just as Sirius had promised, and suddenly, too quick for my taste, we were at the top of the peak.

The hot springs were much more natural than I originally thought. I was expecting something along the idea of a hot tub, like the one at Lily's house, but the hot springs found at the Romanian school of magic were unrefined. There was a little jagged walkway leading between two massive rocks, down to a little cove open to the sky. The pool smelled of sulfur and sweat, and little white crystallized trails of salt littered the granite's surface. The hot spring itself was dark, so dark it looked like ink, and the hole looked bottomless. What was lurking just beneath the surface? It was impossible to tell.

I was, however, grateful for the cover of darkness while I undressed, and although the moon was out, it shone very dully down into the small open cavern. I stripped down to my knickers, aware completely that Sirius was near, doing something very similar.

I tried not to dwell on it.

The water was warm, maybe warmer than just warm, but not nessecarily hot. Steam still wound itself in the air around us, creating spirals of vapor disappearing into the sky. Sirius was quiet, and I felt him hop into the water next to me. Towards the center of the pool the water got deeper, but around the rim there was a roughly cut bench that ran around the edge.

I shivered in the cold air outside, slipping deeper under the water. "Is this as wonderful as you expected?" I asked Sirius, glancing in his general direction. With the stars as the background I could only make out his silhouette against the darkness. The curve of his shoulders, the angle of his jaw, and his messy hair slowly bobbed towards me.

"Yes." He answered, and I could feel the truth behind his reply. I frowned, looking at the water pool around me, trying to locate the image of my hand submerged in the murky depths of the inky water. Impossible, it was too dark.

I had been expecting something more exciting than this, to be honest. With Sirius's rambling all week, but he seemed content, and I would never admit that right now I was rather bored, although he probably knew already.

I could sense his grin more than see it, and he slithered towards me, wrapping his lean arms around my waist to pull my body against his. I shivered but not from the cold anymore.

"Bored, eh?" He wondered, his lips tracing lines down my wet throat. I imagined him behind me, his mischievous smile shadowed but still brighter than any star. Was it possible I could ever deserve this? Him?

"Well, no offense. But I see no water slides." I replied, trying vainly to focus on our conversation. Sirius was no help,, his tongue felt unusually hot against my ear and neck and jaw. I dropped my head backwards to rest on his shoulder, unable to hold up my floating head anymore. I could feel his smile against my skin, and I titled my face sideways slightly to look at him. He pulled away and smirked down at me, the dull moon catching the stray strands of his damp hair.

"Water slides? Is that what you want?" His hands were slowly sliding up my bare sides, brushing across the sensitive skin of my stomach and ribs. The warm water only added to the sensation.

I tried to think for a moment. "No," I answered, turning in his grip so I could face him. His eyes looked black in the darkness, but I could see the playfulness in the way his dimples appeared on either side of his mouth. This was a good distraction. This was nice, normal. Regular couples did this kind of stuff right?

"Then what would you like to do?" He mumbled into my ear, as his fingers traced up my back to shoulders and back down the curve of my spine. I wound my hands around his neck, feeling his ebony locks brush against my fingers as I did so.

"Mhmmm…" I pretended to think, when really I was just scrambling to find any thoughts at all. This wasn't fair, his hands and lips were distractingly seductive, all thoughts of anything else other than Sirius was out the window.

"Mhmmm?" He teased, releasing me from his spell. I realized slowly that my legs had wrapped around his lean waist, that our bodies had moved together. I was almost sitting on him now, the water must have pushed us together with its current. I felt only a twinge of embarrassment that we were both only clad in our knickers, and a bra of course. "That's what you want to do? Mhmmm?" He laughed lightly, his body shaking, his abdomen muscles constricting. I pressed my palm against his ribs, fascinated.

"Shut up, you wanker. I was thinking." I said, as his laughter ceased. I slid my arms around him, so my fingers were tracing patters on his back. He stopped and swallowed, and I cocked my head to one side, curious.

"Have you figured out what you want to do now?" He asked, but his tone was different and strange. His eyes becoming impossibly darker. His lips moved as he talked, and the motion captivated me. I retracted a hand from his back and lightly pressed a finger to his lips. Smooth like wet glass. He seemed frozen, and I traced my fingertip across his jaw, down to his throat.

Crickets began singing in the distance, and Sirius watched me carefully, his eyes dark and inquisitive. He let out a raspy breath and licked his lips, letting his head fall back against the stone rim of the hot spring. I moved up on his body, wanting to look into his face, but couldn't take my eyes away from the curve of his bottom lip.

Sirius's earlier question rang in my ears, and I answered with a "Not yet," He seemed relieved that I had spoken, because he began to open his mouth for a reply when I realized what I wanted to do. I pressed my lips lightly against his, taking in his surprised breath, and his bodies reaction.

His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer reflexively. The water sloshed thickly with the movement, creating tiny whirlpools that swirled away from us as they faded. Sirius' lips moved quickly against mine, still soft and beautiful, and I realized that I would much rather do this than sleep.

The next morning was bright but cold. I rolled out of my crumpled bed slightly damp and groggy. Margeret, my roommate, smiled at me from her bunk. Her eyes dropped to the soggy pile of my undergarments, to the new pair of pajamas I had changed into, different from the ones I had gone to bed in.

She raised an eyebrow. "Shower with your clothes?" Margeret said, not unkindly. I rubbed my eyes and blinked at her.

"Oh, no. No, I went to the hot springs last night." I realized belatedly I shouldn't have told her, she might be the tattle tail type, but she only laughed and packed the rest of her school items into her bag.

"Oh, well, I hope you had fun." She winked heartily, and swung out the door, trooping down the hall to her first class. I sighed and slumped back into the mattress. She didn't ask who I went with, but it was obvious she assumed. What female wouldn't notice Sirius Black, and in turn notice who he was with?

"Wow, finally. I've been waiting forever." Sirius exaggerated as I breathlessly lept down the stairs.

" Sorry," I replied, as he leaned his head down towards me, invading my space. I pulled away, taken aback. "What are you doing?" Was he trying to knock my head? He laughed at my surprised expression, using his hands to hold my face in place. I squirmed slightly as he looked down at me.

"Calm down, I'm just going to kiss you." I laughed nervously at my jumpiness and relaxed in his grip, letting him lean down to peck me on the lips.

"Last Quidditch practice tonight." He informed me happily, as we walked out of the central common towards our last class of the week. Friday, finally. Something all cultures celebrate.

"Yup, all games from here on out." Sirius grinned down at me, his hair perfectly disheveled.

"We'll do _marvelous_ darling." He said cheekily.

The day after Hog wart's first official Quidditch match of the tournament, I found myself in a familiar position. One I had been reliving all week.

I sat on the edge of my frustratingly round bed, happy to have the room vacated, but barely registering the fact. In front of me was my trunk, my clothes partially spilling out, and a variety of items sitting a top it's flat surface. One of these items was my hairbrush, another was a water canister, a little sac filled with knuts and galleons, and last but certainly not least, a diary. My diary, I reminded myself darkly. It felt foreign, this object, unlike the other few things I owned. I knew what my hairbrush looked like, what it felt like in my hand, when I used it last—this morning in front of the little dusty mirror.

But this? I looked at the brown-bound book, tattered and weather worn. This monstrosity did not feel like mine, it was as unfamiliar as another person's possession.

I got up and stood over it, afraid to touch, afraid to get closer, afraid of what it held inside it's worn pages. I felt useless, aggravated at myself for even entertaining the thought of opening it, and at the same time angry about my cowardice—it was just a notebook. Plain and simple. Except not, I knew better than to expect something funny and child-like, something that held fond memories of days picking wildflowers. I knew better, and this knowledge placed me on the edge of a blade, unable to topple in either direction even as I was standing on a painful point. To open or burn? That was the question.

A swampy puddle of dread pooled in the pit of my hot stomach as I lay my fingers across the rough surface of the lost diary. It didn't move, or shout, or burn me. The little book just lay still, as lifeless as water logged driftwood. This should be easy I reminded myself, just opening up these past events, I had, of course, lived through them. But the idea seemed much better sounding in my mind, and as I picked up the brown book, substantial and solid in my hands, my heart beat skipped and I wondered quickly if I wanted to relive this, or if I would rather be ignorant.

I paused at the foot of my trunk, outside students celebrated their fantastic Quidditch win, or bathed in self pity at their elimination in the tournament, but I hesitantly walked back to my bed, notebook in hand, and sat tenderly upon the mattress.

For a moment I just stared at it wonderingly, a sad sort of hollowness settling uncomfortably in my stomach. Sirius would be back soon, he was only taking a shower. Maybe I should just open the first page, read that, and see if possibly I could handle the dose of memories and terrors it withheld. I recalled briefly the beginning of my stay at Hogwarts, where nightmares of lost memories haunted my sleep, and waking up I found myself sick to the point of vomiting. Could I handle it?, I asked myself hollowly, and the words resounded through my brain, hitting nothing because I held no substantial answer.

My fingers dragged over the front cover, plain and rough, testing it, wondering what lay beyond the top layer. As my fingers lingered, I took one final breath, and lifted the page. The message that lay beneath was unexpected. There, in small print at the center of a blank page read the words:

Property of Kira. R. Thornhill,

Leave the Past Alone

Written in the slanted scrawl of a child, I read the words carefully, noticing the strange sentence below my name. Leave the past alone? Was that a warning to others, or my futuristic self? My gaze lingered on the message, reassessing my hasty decision to reopen unwanted memories.

After a moment of hesitation, I moved to turn the page, but the paper flared orange and burned the tips of my fingers. I jerked back, and looked at the paper diary, finding the old message fading and new words appearing. I looked closer, my heart beating faster as the words cleared from their inky haze.

Trespasser.

No one can alter their blood.

I puzzled over this for a thoughtful moment. Wasn't I not a trespasser? I must have, when I realized I would have to use my notebook as a portkey, sealed it closed to prevent the memories form ever being opened again. But what did the message below mean? I studied the page, and with a strange sort of certainty, picked up a pocket knife Sirius had loaned me earlier, and carefully slit the tip of my finger, until a round red drop of blood dripped from my skin and onto the page of the old journal. The liquid formed a crimson splatter on the parchment, then absorbed into the page along with the words until it was blank again.

For a moment nothing happened, and then all at once the little book's pages spun, as if it were in the middle of a hurricane, until they stopped on one little page. The journal lay open for mere seconds before a blinding light filled every hollow of my small dorm room, chasing any form of color away.

Finally everything stopped, and it was quiet again, slowly, still seeing stars from the blinding light, I opened my eyes, only to find someone waiting for me.

And she looked frighteningly familiar. She was standing upon of the open pages of the notebook, her dark hair wild and cruel rust colored eyes frighteningly dilated. Her face was scarred and scared, and her lips split and face bruised. She wore black robes, the finest, the Death Eater skull and snake emblem woven onto the breast. A small, ironic smile twisted her abused face.

"If it isn't the Dark Lord's Doll. I was wondering when I'd see you. Or, more correctly, when I'd see me."


End file.
